THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 
FREDERIC  THOMAS  BLANCHARD 


' 


PLANTATION 
EDITION 

*• 

VOLUME  XV 


"  But  you  must  not  come  in. 


—faff  172 


•»  THE  NOVELS,  STORIES, 
SKETCHES  AND  POEMS  OF 
THOMAS  NELSON  PAGE  v 


JOHN  MARVEL 
ASSISTANT 


CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
NEW  YORK     *    *    *    *     1909 


Copyright,  1900,  by 
CHARLES  SCBIBNEB'S  SONS 


All  Right*  Retentd 


TO 

Those  loved  ones  whose  never  failing 
sympathy  has  led  me  all  these  years 


1014147 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  MY  FIRST  FAILURE 3 

II.  THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 8 

III.  THE  FIGHT 21 

IV.  DELILAH ,33 

V.  THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 45 

VI.  THE  METEOR    .....    t 55 

VII.  THE  HEGIRA     .    .    . 69 

VIII.  PADAN-ARAM 84 

IX.  I  PITCH  MY  TENT 104 

X.  A  NEW  GIRL 127 

XI.  ELEANOR  LEIGH 140 

XII.  JOHN  MARVEL 169 

XIII.  MR.  LEIGH 180 

XIV.  MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 189 

XV.  THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 212 

vii 


CONTENTS 

CNAPTXK  **0« 

XVI.    THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 229 

XVII.    THE  GULF 243 

XVI1L    THE  DRUMMER 264 

XIX.    RE-ENTER  PECK 279 

XX.    MY  FIRST  CLIENT 301 

XXI.    THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 318 

XX1L    THE  PREACHER 337 


riii 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"BUT  YOU  MUST  NOT  COME  IN" Frontispiece 

FACING  PACK 

"HI1    WHAT  YOU  DO1N'?"  HE  STAMMERED  76 


"TO  PLY  YOUR  OLD  TRADE?"  I  ASKED 272 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I 

MY   FIRST   FAILURE 

T  SHALL  feel  at  liberty  to  tell  my  story  in  my 
own  way;  rambling  along  at  my  own  gait; 
now  going  from  point  to  point;  now  tearing 
ahead ;  now  stopping  to  rest  or  to  ruminate,  and 
even  straying  from  the  path  whenever  I  think  a 
digression  will  be  for  my  own  enjoyment. 

I  shall  begin  with  my  college  career,  a  period  to 
which  I  look  back  now  with  a  pleasure  wholly  in 
commensurate  with  what  I  achieved  in  it;  which 
I  find  due  to  the  friends  I  made  and  to  the  mem 
ories  I  garnered  there  in  a  time  when  I  possessed 
the  unprized  treasures  of  youth:  spirits,  hope, 
and  abounding  conceit.  As  these  memories,  with 
the  courage  (to  use  a  mild  term)  that  a  college 
background  gives,  are  about  all  that  I  got  out  of 
my  life  there,  I  shall  dwell  on  them  only  enough 
to  introduce  two  or  three  friends  and  one  enemy, 
who  played  later  a  very  considerable  part  in  my 
life. 

3 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

My  family  was  an  old  and  distinguished  one; 
that  is,  it  could  be  traced  back  about  two  hundred 
years,  and  several  of  my  ancestors  had  accom 
plished  enough  to  be  known  in  the  history  of  the 
State — a  fact  of  which  I  was  so  proud  that  I  was 
quite  satisfied  at  college  to  rest  on  their  achieve 
ments,  and  felt  no  need  to  add  to  its  distinction 
by  any  labors  of  my  own. 

We  had  formerly  been  well  off;  we  had,  indeed, 
at  one  time  prior  to  the  Revolutionary  War  owned 
large  estates — a  time  to  which  I  was  so  fond  of  re 
ferring  when  I  first  went  to  college  that  one  of  my 
acquaintances,  named  Peck,  an  envious  fellow^ 
observed  one  day  that  I  thought  I  had  inherited 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  and  the  glory  of 
them.  My  childhood  was  spent  on  an  old  planta 
tion,  so  far  removed  from  anything  that  I  have 
since  known  that  it  might  almost  have  been  in 
another  planet. 

It  happened  that  I  was  the  only  child  of  my 
parents  who  survived,  the  others  having  been  car 
ried  off  in  early  childhood  by  a  scourge  of  scarlet 
fever,  to  which  circumstance,  as  I  look  back,  I 
now  know  was  due  my  mother's  sadness  of  ex 
pression  when  my  father  was  not  present.  I  was 
thus  subjected  to  the  perils  and  great  misfortune 
of  being  an  only  child,  among  them  that  of  think- 

4 


MY  FIRST  FAILURE 

ing  the  sun  rises  and  sets  for  his  especial  benefit. 
I  must  say  that  both  my  father  and  mother  tried 
faithfully  to  do  their  part  to  counteract  this  dan 
ger,  and  they  not  only  believed  firmly  in,  but 
acted  consistently  on,  the  Solomonic  doctrine 
that  to  spare  the  rod  is  to  spoil  the  child.  My 
father,  I  must  say,  was  more  lenient,  and  I  think 
gladly  evaded  the  obligation  as  interpreted  by  my 
mother,  declaring  that  Solomon,  like  a  good  many 
other  persons,  was  much  wiser  in  speech  than  in 
practice.  He  was  fond  of  quoting  the  custom  of 
the  ancient  Scythians,  who  trained  their  youth  to 
ride,  to  shoot,  and  to  speak  the  truth.  And  hi 
this  last  particular  he  was  inexorable.  t 

Among  my  chief  intimates  as  a  small  boy  was 
a  little  darkey  named  "Jeams."  Jeams  was  the 
grandson  of  one  of  our  old  servants — Uncle  Ralph 
Woodson.  Jeams,  who  was  a  few  years  my  senior, 
was  a  sharp-witted  boy,  as  black  as  a  piece  of  old 
mahogany,  and  had  a  head  so  hard  that  he  could 
butt  a  plank  off  a  fence.  Naturally  he  and  I  be 
came  cronies,  and  he  picked  up  information  on 
various  subjects  so  readily  that  I  found  him 
equally  agreeable  and  useful. 

My  father  was  admirably  adapted  to  the  condi 
tions  that  had  created  such  a  character,  but  as 
unsuited  to  the  new  conditions  that  succeeded 

5 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  collapse  of  the  old  life  as  a  shorn  lamb  would 
be  to  the  untempered  wind  of  winter.  He  was  a 
Whig  and  an  aristocrat  of  the  strongest  type,  and 
though  in  practice  he  was  the  kindest  and  most 
liberal  of  men,  he  always  maintained  that  a  gen 
tleman  was  the  choicest  fruit  of  civilization;  a 
standard,  I  may  say,  in  which  the  personal  element 
counted  with  him  far  more  than  family  connec 
tion.  "A  king  can  make  a  nobleman,  sir,"  he  used 
to  say;  "but  it  takes  Jehovah  to  make  a  gentle 
man."  When  the  war  came,  though  he  was  op 
posed  to  "  Locofocoism "  as  he  termed  it,  he  en 
listed  as  a  private  as  soon  as  the  State  seceded, 
and  fought  through  the  war,  rising  to  be  a  major 
and  surrendering  at  Appomattox.  When  the  war 
closed,  he  shut  himself  up  on  his  estate,  accepting 
the  situation  without  moroseness,  and  consoling 
himself  with  a  philosophy  much  more  misan 
thropic  in  expression  than  in  practice. 

My  father's  slender  patrimony  had  been  swept 
away  by  the  war,  but,  being  a  scholar  himself, 
and  having  a  high  idea  of  classical  learning  and 
a  good  estimate  of  my  abilities — in  which  latter 
view  I  entirely  agreed  with  him — he  managed  by 
much  stinting  to  send  me  to  college  out  of  the 
fragments  of  his  establishment.  I  admired  greatly 
certain  principles  which  were  stamped  in  him  as 

6 


MY  FIRST  FAILURE 

firmly  as  a  fossil  is  embedded  in  the  solid  rock; 
but  I  fear  I  had  a  certain  contempt  for  what  ap 
peared  to  me  his  inadequacy  to  the  new  state  of 
things,  and  I  secretly  plumed  myself  on  my  supe 
riority  to  him  in  all  practical  affairs.  Without  the 
least  appreciation  of  the  sacrifices  he  was  making 
to  send  me  to  college,  I  was  an  idle  dog  and 
plunged  into  the  amusements  of  the  gay  set — that 
set  whose  powers  begin  below  their  foreheads — in 
which  I  became  a  member  and  aspired  to  be  a 
leader. 

My  first  episode  at  college  brought  me  some 
eclat. 


n 

THE   JEW   AND  THE   CHRISTIAN 

T  ARRIVED  rather  late  and  the  terra  had  al- 
ready  begun,  so  that  all  the  desirable  rooms 
had  been  taken.  I  was  told  that  I  would  either 
have  to  room  out  of  college  or  take  quarters  with  a 
young  man  by  the  name  of  Wolffert — like  myself, 
a  freshman.  I  naturally  chose  the  latter.  On 
reaching  my  quarters,  I  found  my  new  comrade 
to  be  an  affable,  gentlemanly  fellow,  and  very  nice 
looking.  Indeed,  his  broad  brow,  with  curling 
brown  hair  above  it;  his  dark  eyes,  deep  and  lumi 
nous;  a  nose  the  least  bit  too  large  and  inclin 
ing  to  be  aquiline ;  a  well-cut  mouth  with  mobile, 
sensitive  lips,  and  a  finely  chiselled  jaw,  gave  him 
an  unusual  face,  if  not  one  of  distinction.  He  was 
evidently  bent  on  making  himself  agreeable  to  me, 
and  as  he  had  read  an  extraordinary  amount  for 
a  lad  of  his  age  and  I,  who  had  also  read  some,  was 
lonely,  we  had  passed  a  pleasant  evening  when 
he  mentioned  casually  a  fact  which  sent  my  heart 
down  into  my  boots.  He  was  a  Jew.  This,  then, 

8 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

accounted  for  the  ridge  of  his  well-carved  nose, 
and  the  curl  of  his  soft  brown  hair.  I  tried  to  be 
as  frank  and  easy  as  I  had  been  before,  but  it  was 
a  failure.  He  saw  my  surprise  as  I  saw  his  disap 
pointment — a  coolness  took  the  place  of  the 
warmth  that  had  been  growing  up  between  us  for 
several  hours,  and  we  passed  a  stiff  evening.  He 
had  already  had  one  room-mate. 

Next  day,  I  found  a  former  acquaintance  who 
offered  to  take  me  into  his  apartment,  and  that 
afternoon,  having  watched  for  my  opportunity, 
I  took  advantage  of  my  room-mate's  absence  and 
moved  out,  leaving  a  short  note  saying  that  I  had 
discovered  an  old  friend  who  was  very  desirous 
that  I  should  share  his  quarters.  When  I  next 
met  Wolffert  he  was  so  stiff  that,  although  I  felt 
sorry  for  him  and  was  ready  to  be  as  civil  as  I 
might,  our  acquaintance  thereafter  became  merely 
nominal.  I  saw,  in  fact,  little  of  him  during  the 
next  months,  for  he  soon  forged  far  ahead  of  me. 
There  was,  indeed,  no  one  in  his  class  who  pos 
sessed  his  acquirements  or  his  ability.  I  used  to 
see  him  for  a  while  standing  in  his  doorway  look 
ing  wistfully  out  at  the  groups  of  students  gathered 
under  the  trees,  or  walking  alone,  like  Isaac  in  the 
fields,  and  until  I  formed  my  own  set,  I  would 
have  gone  and  joined  him  or  have  asked  him  to 

9 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

join  us  but  for  his  rebuff.  I  knew  that  he  was 
lonely;  for  I  soon  discovered  that  the  cold  shoul 
der  was  being  given  to  him  by  most  of  the  stu 
dents.  I  could  not,  however,  but  feel  that  it 
served  him  right  for  the  "airs"  he  put  on  with 
me.  That  he  made  a  brilliant  exhibition  in  his 
classes  and  was  easily  the  cleverest  man  in  the  class 
did  not  affect  our  attitude  toward  him;  perhaps 
it  only  aggravated  the  case.  Why  should  he  be 
able  to  make  easily  a  demonstration  at  the  black 
board  that  the  cleverest  of  us  only  bungled 
through?  One  day,  however,  we  learned  that  the 
Jew  had  a  room-mate.  Bets  were  freely  taken 
that  he  would  not  stick,  but  he  stuck — for  it  was 
John  Marvel.  Not  that  any  of  us  knew  what  John 
Marvel  was;  for  even  I,  who,  except  Wolffert, 
came  to  know  him  best,  did  not  divine  until  many 
years  later  what  a  nugget  of  unwrought  gold  that 
homely,  shy,  awkward  John  Marvel  was! 

It  appeared  that  Wolffert  had  a  harder  time 
than  any  of  us  dreamed  of. 

He  had  come  to  the  institution  against  the  ad 
vice  of  his  father,  and  for  a  singular  reason:  he 
thought  it  the  most  liberal  institution  of  learning 
in  the  country!  Little  he  knew  of  the  narrow 
ness  of  youth!  His  mind  was  so  receptive  that 
all  that  passed  through  it  was  instantly  appro- 

10 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

priated.  Like  a  plant,  he  drew  sustenance  from 
the  atmosphere  about  him  and  transmuted  what 
was  impalpable  to  us  to  forms  of  beauty.  He 
was  even  then  a  man  of  independent  thought;  a 
dreamer  who  peopled  the  earth  with  ideals,  and 
saw  beneath  the  stony  surface  of  the  commonplace 
the  ideals  and  principles  that  were  to  reconstruct 
and  resurrect  the  world.  An  admirer  of  the  Law 
in  its  ideal  conception,  he  reprobated,  with  the 
fury  of  the  Baptist,  the  generation  that  had  be 
littled  and  cramped  it  to  an  instrument  of  torture 
of  the  human  mind,  and  looked  to  the  millennial 
coming  of  universal  brotherhood  and  freedom. 

His  father  was  a  leading  man  in  his  city;  one 
who,  by  his  native  ability  and  the  dynamic  force 
that  seems  to  be  a  characteristic  of  the  race,  had 
risen  from  poverty  to  the  position  of  chief  mer 
chant  and  capitalist  of  the  town  in  which  he 
lived.  He  had  been  elected  mayor  in  a  time  of 
stress;  but  his  popularity  among  the  citizens 
generally  had  cost  him,  as  I  learned  later,  some 
thing  among  his  own  people.  The  breadth  of  his 
views  had  not  been  approved  by  them. 

The  abilities  that  in  the  father  had  taken  this 
direction  of  the  mingling  of  the  practical  and  the 
theoretical  had,  in  the  son,  taken  the  form  I  have 
stated.  He  was  an  idealist:  a  poet  and  a  dreamer. 

11 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

The  boy  from  the  first  had  discovered  powers 
that  had  given  his  father  the  keenest  delight,  not 
unmingled  with  a  little  misgiving.  As  he  grew 
up  among  the  best  class  of  boys  in  his  town,  and 
became  conscious  that  he  was  not  one  of  them, 
his  enquiring  and  aspiring  mind  began  early  to 
seek  the  reasons  for  the  difference.  Why  should 
he  be  held  a  little  apart  from  them?  He  was  a 
Jew.  Yes,  but  why  should  a  Jew  be  held  apart? 
They  talked  about  their  families.  Why,  his  fam 
ily  could  trace  back  for  two  thousand  and  more 
years  to  princes  and  kings.  They  had  a  different 
religion.  But  he  saw  other  boys  with  different 
religions  going  and  playing  together.  They  were 
Christians,  and  believed  in  Christ,  while  the  Jew, 
etc.  This  puzzled  him  till  he  found  that  some  of 
them — a  few — did  not  hold  the  same  views  of 
Christ  with  the  others.  Then  he  began  to  study 
for  himself,  boy  as  he  was,  the  history  of  Christ, 
and  out  of  it  came  questions  that  his  father  could 
not  answer  and  was  angry  that  he  should  put  to 
him.  He  went  to  a  young  Rabbi  who  told  him 
that  Christ  was  a  good  man,  but  mistaken  in  His 
claims. 

So,  the  boy  drifted  a  little  apart  from  his  own 
people,  and  more  and  more  he  studied  the 
questions  that  arose  in  his  mind,  and  more  and 

12 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

more  he  suffered;  but  more  and  more  he  grew 
strong. 

The  father,  too  proud  of  his  son's  independence 
to  coerce  him  by  an  order  which  might  have 
been  a  law  to  him,  had,  nevertheless,  thrown 
him  on  his  own  resources  and  cut  him  down  to 
the  lowest  figure  on  which  he  could  live,  confident 
that  his  own  opinions  would  be  justified  and  his 
son  return  home. 

Wolffert's  first  experience  very  nearly  justified 
this  conviction.  The  fact  that  a  Jew  had  come 
and  taken  one  of  the  old  apartments  spread 
through  the  college  with  amazing  rapidity  and 
created  a  sensation.  Not  that  there  had  not  been 
Jews  there  before,  for  there  had  been  a  number 
there  at  one  time  or  another.  But  they  were 
members  of  families  of  distinction,  who  had  been 
known  for  generations  as  bearing  their  part  in 
all  the  appointments  of  life,  and  had  consorted 
with  other  folk  on  an  absolute  equality;  so  that 
there  was  little  or  nothing  to  distinguish  them 
as  Israelites  except  their  name.  If  they  were 
Israelites,  it  was  an  accident  and  played  no  larger 
part  in  their  views  than  if  they  had  been  Scotch  or 
French.  But  here  was  a  man  who  proclaimed 
himself  a  Jew;  who  proposed  that  it  should  be 
known,  and  evidently  meant  to  assert  his  rights 

13 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

and  peculiarities  on  all  occasions.  The  result  was 
that  he  was  subjected  to  a  species  of  persecution 
which  only  the  young  Anglo-Saxon,  the  most 
brutal  of  all  animals,  could  have  devised. 

As  college  filled  rapidly,  it  soon  became  neces 
sary  to  double  up,  that  is,  put  two  men  in  one 
apartment.  The  first  student  assigned  to  live 
with  Wolffert  was  Peck,  a  sedate  and  cool  young 
man — like  myself,  from  the  country,  and  like 
myself,  very  short  of  funds.  Peck  would  not 
have  minded  rooming  with  a  Jew,  or,  for  that 
matter,  with  the  Devil,  if  he  had  thought  he  could 
get  anything  out  of  him;  for  he  had  few  preju 
dices,  and  when  it  came  to  calculation,  he  was  the 
multiplication-table.  But  Peck  had  his  way  to 
make,  and  he  coolly  decided  that  a  Jew  was  likely 
to  make  him  bear  his  full  part  of  the  expenses — 
which  he  never  had  any  mind  to  do.  So  he  looked 
around,  and  within  forty-eight  hours  moved  to  a 
place  out  of  college  where  he  got  reduced  board 
on  the  ground  of  belonging  to  some  peculiar  set 
of  religionists,  of  which  I  am  convinced  he  had 
never  heard  till  he  learned  of  the  landlady's 
idiosyncrasy. 

I  had  incurred  Peck's  lasting  enmity — though 
I  did  not  know  it  at  the  time — by  a  witticism  at 
his  expense.  We  had  never  taken  to  each  other 

14 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

from  the  first,  and  one  evening,  when  some  one  was 
talking  about  Wolffert,  Peck  joined  in  and  said 
that  that  institution  was  no  place  for  any  Jew.  I 
said,  "Listen  to  Peck  sniff.  Peck,  how  did  you 
get  in?"  This  raised  a  laugh.  Peck,  I  am  sure, 
had  never  read  "  Martin  Chuzzlewit";  but  I  am 
equally  sure  he  read  it  afterward,  for  he  never  for 
gave  me. 

Then  came  my  turn  and  desertion  which  I  have 
described.  And  then,  after  that  interval  of  lone 
liness,  appeared  John  Marvel. 

Wolffert,  who  was  one  of  the  most  social  men  I 
ever  knew,  was  sitting  in  his  room  meditating  on 
the  strange  fate  that  had  made  him  an  outcast 
among  the  men  whom  he  had  come  there  to  study 
and  know.  This  was  my  interpretation  of  his 
thoughts:  he  would  probably  have  said  he  was 
thinking  of  the  strange  prejudices  of  the  human 
race — prejudices  to  which  he  had  been  in  some 
sort  a  victim  all  his  life,  as  his  race  had  been  all 
through  the  ages.  He  was  steeped  in  loneliness, 
and  as,  in  the  mellow  October  afternoon,  the 
sound  of  good-fellowship  floated  in  at  his  window 
from  the  lawn  outside,  he  grew  more  and  more 
dejected.  One  evening  it  culminated.  He  even 
thought  of  writing  to  his  father  that  he  would 
come  home  and  go  into  his  office  and  accept  the 

15 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

position  that  meant  wealth  and  luxury  and  power. 
Just  then  there  was  a  step  outside,  and  some  one 
stopped,  and  after  a  moment  knocked  at  the 
door.  Wolffert  rose  and  opened  it  and  stood 
facing  a  new  student — a  florid,  round-faced, 
round-bodied,  bow-legged,  blue-eyed,  awkward 
lad  of  about  his  own  age. 

"Is  this  number—  —  ?"  demanded  the  new 
comer,  peering  curiously  at  the  dingy  door  and 
half  shyly  looking  up  at  the  occupant. 

"It  is.    Why?"    Wolffert  spoke  abruptly. 

"Well,  I  have  been  assigned  to  this  apartment 
by  the  Proctor.  I  am  a  new  student  and  have 
just  come.  My  name  is  Marvel — John  Marvel." 
Wolffert  put  his  arms  across  the  doorway  and 
stood  in  the  middle  of  it. 

"Well,  I  want  to  tell  you  before  you  come  in 
that  I  am  a  Jew.  You  are  welcome  not  to  come, 
but  if  you  come  I  want  you  to  stay."  Perhaps 
the  other's  astonishment  contained  a  query,  for 
he  went  on  hotly: 

"I  have  had  two  men  come  here  already  and 
both  of  them  left  after  one  day.  The  first  said 
he  got  cheaper  board,  which  was  a  legitimate  ex 
cuse,  if  true;  the  other  said  he  had  found  an 
old  friend  who  wanted  him.  I  am  convinced  that 
he  lied  and  that  the  only  reason  he  left  was  that 

16 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

I  am  a  Jew.  And  now  you  can  come  in  or  not,  as 
you  please,  but  if  you  come  you  must  stay."  He 
was  looking  down  in  John  Marvel's  eyes  with  a 
gaze  that  had  the  concentrated  bitterness  of 
generations  in  it,  and  the  latter  met  it  with  a 
gravity  that  deepened  into  pity. 

"I  will  come  in  and  I  will  stay;  Jesus  was  a 
Jew,"  said  the  man  on  the  lower  step. 

"I  do  not  know  Him,"  said  the  other  bitterly. 

"But  you  will.    I  know  Him." 

Wolffert's  arms  fell  and  John  Marvel  entered 
and  stayed. 

That  evening  the  two  men  went  to  the  supper 
hall  together.  Their  table  was  near  mine  and 
they  were  the  observed  of  all  observers.  The 
one  curious  thing  was  that  John  Marvel  was 
studying  for  the  ministry.  It  lent  zest  to  the 
jokes  that  were  made  on  this  incongruous  pairing, 
and  jests,  more  or  less  insipid,  were  made  on  the 
Law  and  the  Prophets;  the  lying  down  together 
of  the  lion  and  the  lamb,  etc. 

It  was  a  curious  mating — the  light-haired, 
moon-faced,  slow-witted  Saxon,  and  the  dark, 
keen  Jew  with  his  intellectual  face  and  his  deep- 
burning  eyes  in  which  glowed  the  misery  and 
mystery  of  the  ages. 

John  Marvel  soon  became  well  known;  for  he 
17 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

was  one  of  the  slowest  men  in  the  college.  With 
his  amusing  awkwardness  he  would  have  become 
a  butt  except  for  his  imperturbable  good-humor. 
As  it  was,  he  was  for  a  time  a  sort  of  object  of 
ridicule  to  many  of  us — myself  among  the  num 
ber — and  we  had  many  laughs  at  him.  He  would 
disappear  on  Saturday  night  and  not  turn  up 
again  till  Monday  morning,  dusty  and  dishevelled. 
And  many  jests  were  made  at  his  expense.  One 
said  that  Marvel  was  practising  preaching  in  the 
mountains  with  a  view  to  becoming  a  second  De 
mosthenes;  another  suggested  that,  if  so,  the 
mountains  would  probably  get  up  and  run  into 
the  sea. 

When,  however,  it  was  discovered  later  that 
he  had  a  Sunday-school  in  the  mountains,  and 
walked  twelve  miles  out  and  twelve  miles  back, 
most  of  the  gibers,  except  the  inveterate  humor 
ists  like  myself,  were  silent. 

This  fact  came  out  by  chance.  Marvel  disap 
peared  from  college  one  day  and  remained  away 
for  two  or  three  weeks.  Wolffert  either  could  not 
or  would  not  give  any  account  of  him.  When 
Marvel  returned,  he  looked  worn  and  ill,  as  if  he 
had  been  starving,  and  almost  immediately  he 
was  taken  ill  and  went  to  the  infirmary  with  a 
case  of  fever.  Here  he  was  so  ill  that  the  doctors 

18 


THE  JEW  AND  THE  CHRISTIAN 

quarantined  him  and  no  one  saw  him  except  the 
nurse — old  Mrs.  Denny,  a  wrinkled  and  bald- 
headed,  old,  fat  woman,  something  between  a 
lightwood  knot  and  an  angel — and  Wolffert. 

Wolffert  moved  down  and  took  up  his  quarters 
in  the  infirmary — it  was  suggested,  with  a  view 
to  converting  Marvel  to  Judaism — and  here  he 
stayed.  The  nursing  never  appeared  to  make  any 
difference  in  Wolffert's  preparation  for  his  classes; 
for  when  he  came  back  he  still  stood  easily  first. 
But  poor  Marvel  never  caught  up  again,  and  was 
even  more  hopelessly  lost  in  the  befogged  region 
at  the  bottom  of  the  class  than  ever  before. 
When  called  on  to  recite,  his  brow  would  pucker 
and  he  would  perspire  and  stammer  until  the 
class  would  be  in  ill-suppressed  convulsions,  all 
the  more  enjoyable  because  of  Leo  Wolffert's 
agonizing  over  his  wretchedness.  Then  Marvel, 
excused  by  the  professor,  would  sit  down  and 
mop  his  brow  and  beam  quite  as  if  he  had  made 
a  wonderful  performance  (which  indeed  he  had), 
while  Wolffert's  thin  face  would  grow  whiter,  his 
nostrils  quiver,  and  his  deep  eyes  burn  like  coals. 

One  day  a  spare,  rusty  man  with  a  frowzy  beard, 
and  a  lank,  stooping  woman  strolled  into  the  col 
lege  grounds,  and  after  wandering  around  aim 
lessly  for  a  time,  asked  for  Mr.  Marvel.  Each  of 

19 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

them  carried  a  basket.  They  were  directed  to  his 
room  and  remained  with  him  some  time,  and  when 
they  left,  he  walked  some  distance  with  them. 

It  was  at  first  rumored  and  then  generally  re 
ported  that  they  were  Marvel's  father  and  mother. 
It  became  known  later  that  they  were  a  couple  of 
poor  mountaineers  named  Shiflett,  whose  child 
John  Marvel  had  nursed  when  it  had  the  fever. 
They  had  just  learned  of  his  illness  and  had  come 
down  to  bring  him  some  chickens  and  other  things 
which  they  thought  he  might  need. 

This  incident,  with  the  knowledge  of  Marvel's 
devotion,  made  some  impression  on  us,  and  gained 
for  Marvel,  and  incidentally  for  Wolffert,  some 
sort  of  respect. 


20 


Ill 

THE    FIGHT 

A  LL  this  time  I  was  about  as  far  aloof  from 
^*  Marvel  and  Wolffert  as  I  was  from  any  one 
in  the  college. 

I  rather  liked  Marvel,  partly  because  he  ap 
peared  to  like  me  and  I  helped  him  in  his  Latin, 
and  partly  because  Peck  sniffed  at  him,  and  Peck 
I  cordially  disliked  for  his  cold-blooded  selfishness 
and  his  plodding  way. 

I  was  strong  and  active  and  fairly  good-looking, 
though  by  no  means  so  handsome  as  I  fancied 
myself  when  I  passed  the  large  plate-glass  win 
dows  in  the  stores;  I  was  conceited,  but  not  arro 
gant  except  to  my  family  and  those  I  esteemed 
my  inferiors;  was  a  good  poker-player;  was  open- 
handed  enough,  for  it  cost  me  nothing;  and  was 
inclined  to  be  kind  by  nature. 

I  had,  moreover,  several  accomplishments  which 
led  to  a  certain  measure  of  popularity.  I  had  a 
retentive  memory,  and  could  get  up  a  recitation 
with  little  trouble;  though  I  forgot  about  as 
quickly  as  I  learned.  I  could  pick  a  little  on  a 

21 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

banjo;  could  spout  fluently  what  sounded  like  a 
good  speech  if  one  did  not  listen  to  me;  could 
write  what,  some  one  has  said,  looked  at  a  distance 
like  poetry  and,  thanks  to  my  father,  could  both 
fence  and  read  Latin.  These  accomplishments 
served  to  bring  me  into  the  best  set  in  college,  and, 
in  time,  to  undo  me.  For  there  is  nothing  more 
dangerous  to  a  young  man  than  an  exceptional 
social  accomplishment.  A  tenor  voice  is  almost 
as  perilous  as  a  taste  for  drink;  and  to  play  the 
guitar,  about  as  seductive  as  to  play  poker. 

I  was  soon  to  know  Wolffert  better.  He  and 
Marvel,  after  their  work  became  known,  had 
been  admitted  rather  more  within  the  circle, 
though  they  were  still  kept  near  the  perimeter. 
And  thus,  as  the  spring  came  on,  when  we  all 
assembled  on  pleasant  afternoons  under  the  big 
trees  that  shaded  the  green  slopes  above  the  ath 
letic  field,  even  Wolffert  and  Marvel  were  apt  to 
join  us.  I  would  long  ago  have  made  friends  with 
Wolffert,  as  some  others  had  done  since  he  distin 
guished  himself;  for  I  had  been  ashamed  of  my 
poltroonery  in  leaving  him;  but,  though  he  was 
affable  enough  with  others,  he  always  treated  me 
with  such  marked  reserve  that  I  had  finally  aban 
doned  my  charitable  effort  to  be  on  easy  terms 
with  him. 

22 


THE  FIGHT 

One  spring  afternoon  we  were  all  loafing  under 
the  trees,  many  of  us  stretched  out  on  the  grass. 
I  had  just  saved  a  game  of  baseball  by  driving  a 
ball  that  brought  in  three  men  from  the  bases, 
and  I  was  surrounded  by  quite  a  group.  Marvel, 
who  was  as  strong  as  an  ox,  was  second-baseman 
on  the  other  nine  and  had  missed  the  ball  as  the 
centre-fielder  threw  it  wildly.  Something  was 
said — I  do  not  recall  what — and  I  raised  a  laugh 
at  Marvel's  expense,  in  which  he  joined  heartily. 
Then  a  discussion  began  on  the  merits  in  which 
Wolffert  joined.  I  started  it,  but  as  Wolff ert 
appeared  excited,  I  drew  out  and  left  it  to  my 
friends. 

Presently,  at  something  Wolffert  said,  I  turned 
to  a  friend,  Sam  Pleasants,  and  said  in  a  half- 
aside,  with  a  sneer:  "He  did  not  see  it;  Sam, 
you — "  I  nodded  my  head,  meaning,  "You  ex 
plain  it." 

Suddenly,  Wolffert  rose  to  his  feet  and,  without 
a  word  of  warning,  poured  out  on  me  such  a  torrent 
of  abuse  as  I  never  heard  before  or  since.  His 
least  epithet  was  a  deadly  insult.  It  was  out  of 
a  clear  sky,  and  for  a  moment  my  breath  was 
quite  taken  away.  I  sprang  to  my  feet  and,  with 
a  roar  of  rage,  made  a  rush  for  him.  But  he  was 
ready,  and  with  a  step  to  one  side,  planted  a 

23 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

straight  blow  on  my  jaw  that,  catching  me  unpre 
pared,  sent  me  full  length  on  my  back.  I  was  up 
in  a  second  and  made  another  rush  for  him,  only 
to  be  caught  in  the  same  way  and  sent  down  again. 

When  I  rose  the  second  time,  I  was  cooler. 
I  knew  then  that  I  was  in  for  it.  Those  blows 
were  a  boxer's.  They  came  straight  from  the 
shoulder  and  were  as  quick  as  lightning,  with 
every  ounce  of  the  giver's  weight  behind  them. 
By  this  time,  however,  the  crowd  had  interfered. 
This  was  no  place  for  a  fight,  they  said.  The  pro 
fessors  would  come  on  us.  Several  were  holding 
me  and  as  many  more  had  Wolffert ;  among  them 
John  Marvel,  who  could  have  lifted  him  in  his 
strong  arms  and  held  him  as  a  baby.  Marvel  was 
pleading  with  him  with  tears  in  his  eyes.  Wolffert 
was  cool  enough  now,  but  he  took  no  heed  of  his 
friend's  entreaties.  Standing  quite  still,  with  the 
blaze  in  his  eyes  all  the  more  vivid  because  of  the 
pallor  of  his  face,  he  was  looking  over  his  friend's 
head  and  was  cursing  me  with  all  the  eloquence  of 
a  rich  vocabulary.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
there  might  not  have  been  another  man  but  my 
self  within  a  mile. 

In  a  moment  an  agreement  was  made  by  which 
we  were  to  adjourn  to  a  retired  spot  and  fight  it 
out.  Something  that  he  said  led  some  one  to  sug- 

24 


THE  FIGHT 

gest  that  we  settle  it  with  pistols.  It  was  Peck's 
voice.  Wolffert  sprang  at  it.  "I  will,  if  I  can 
get  any  gentleman  to  represent  me,"  he  said  with 
a  bitter  sneer,  casting  his  flashing,  scornful  eyes 
around  on  the  crowd.  "I  have  only  one  friend 
and  I  will  not  ask  him  to  do  it." 

"I  will  represent  you,"  said  Peck,  who  had  his 
own  reasons  for  the  offer. 

"All  right.    When  and  where?"  said  I. 

/'Now,  and  in  the  railway  cut  beyond  the 
wood,"  said  Wolffert. 

We  retired  to  two  rooms  in  a  neighboring 
dormitory  to  arrange  matters.  Peck  and  another 
volunteer  represented  Wolffert,  and  Sam  Pleas- 
ants  and  Harry  Houston  were  my  seconds.  I 
had  expected  that  some  attempt  at  reconciliation 
would  be  made;  but  there  was  no  suggestion  of 
it.  I  never  saw  such  cold-blooded  young  ruffians 
as  all  our  seconds  were,  and  when  Peck  came  to 
close  the  final  cartel  he  had  an  air  between  that 
of  a  butcher  and  an  undertaker.  He  looked  at 
me  exactly  as  a  butcher  does  at  a  fatted  calf. 
He  positively  licked  his  chops.  I  did  not  want 
to  shoot  Wolffert,  but  I  could  cheerfully  have 
murdered  Peck.  While,  however,  the  arrange 
ments  were  being  made  by  our  friends,  I  had  had 
a  chance  for  some  reflection  and  I  had  used  it.  I 

25 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

knew  that  Wolffert  did  not  like  me.  He  had  no 
reason  to  do  so,  for  I  had  not  only  left  him,  but 
had  been  cold  and  distant  with  him.  Still,  I 
had  always  treated  him  civilly,  and  had  spoken 
of  him  respectfully,  which  was  more  than  Peck 
had  always  done.  Yet,  here,  without  the  least 
provocation,  he  had  insulted  me  grossly.  I  knew 
there  must  be  some  misunderstanding,  and  I  de 
termined  on  my  "own  hook"  to  find  out  what 
it  was.  Fortune  favored  me.  Just  then  Wolffert 
opened  the  door.  He  had  gone  to  his  own  room 
for  a  few  moments  and,  on  his  return,  mistook  the 
number  and  opened  the  wrong  door.  Seeing  his 
error,  he  drew  back  with  an  apology,  and  was 
just  closing  the  door  when  I  called  him. 

"Wolffert!  Come  in  here  a  moment.  I  want 
to  speak  to  you  alone." 

He  re-entered  and  closed  the  door;  standing 
stiff  and  silent. 

"Wolffert,  there  has  been  some  mistake,  and  I 
want  to  know  what  it  is."  He  made  not  the 
least  sign  that  he  heard,  except  a  flash,  deep  in 
his  eyes,  like  a  streak  of  lightning  in  a  far-off  cloud. 

"I  am  ready  to  fight  you  in  any  way  you  wish," 
I  went  on.  "But  I  want  to  know  what  the 
trouble  is.  Why  did  you  insult  me  out  of  a  clear 
sky?  What  had  I  done?" 

26 


THE  FIGHT 

"Everything." 

"What?    Specify.    What  was  it?" 

' '  You  have  made  my  life  Hell — all  of  you ! "  His 
face  worked,  and  he  made  a  wild  sweep  with  his  arm 
and  brought  it  back  to  his  side  with  clenched  fist. 

"But  I?" 

"You  were  the  head.  You  have  all  done  it. 
You  have  treated  me  as  an  outcast — a  Jew!  You 
have  given  me  credit  for  nothing,  because  I  was 
a  Jew.  I  could  have  stood  the  personal  contempt 
and  insult,  and  I  have  tried  to  stand  it;  but  I  will 
put  up  with  it  no  longer.  It  is  appointed  once 
for  a  man  to  die,  and  I  can  die  in  no  better  cause 
than  for  my  people." 

He  was  gasping  with  suppressed  emotion,  and  I 
was  beginning  to  gasp  also — but  for  a  different 
reason.  He  went  on : 

"You  thought  I  was  a  coward  because  I  was 
a  Jew,  and  because  I  wanted  peace — treated  me 
as  a  poltroon  because  I  was  a  Jew.  And  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  stop  it.  So  this  evening  my 
chance  came.  That  is  all." 

"But  what  have  I  done?" 

"Nothing  more  than  you  have  always  done; 
treated  the  Jew  with  contempt.  But  they  were 
all  there,  and  I  chose  you  as  the  leader  when  you 
said  that  about  the  Jew." 

27 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"I  said  nothing  about  a  Jew.  Here,  wait! 
Did  you  think  I  insulted  you  as  a  Jew  this  after 
noon?"  I  had  risen  and  walked  over  in  front  of 
him. 

"Yes."    He  bowed. 

"Well,  I  did  not." 

"You  did — you  said  to  Sam  Pleasants  that  I 
was  a  'damned  Jew/  ' 

"What!  I  never  said  a  word  like  it — yes,  I  did 
— I  said  to  Sam  Pleasants,  that  you  did  not  see 
the  play,  and  said,  'Sam,  you — '  meaning,  you, 
tell  him.  Wait.  Let  me  think  a  moment. 
Wolffert,  I  owe  you  an  apology,  and  will  make  it. 
I  know  there  are  some  who  will  think  I  do  it  be 
cause  I  am  afraid  to  fight.  But  I  do  not  care.  I 
am  not,  and  I  will  fight  Peck  if  he  says  so.  If 
you  will  come  with  me,  I  will  make  you  a  public 
apology,  and  then  if  you  want  to  fight  still,  I  will 
meet  you." 

He  suddenly  threw  his  right  arm  up  across  his 
face,  and,  turning  his  back  on  me,  leaned  on  it 
against  the  door,  his  whole  person  shaken  with 
sobs. 

I  walked  up  close  to  him  and  laid  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  helplessly. 

"Calm  yourself,"  I  began,  but  could  think  of 
nothing  else  to  say. 

28 


THE  FIGHT 

He  shook  for  a  moment  and  then,  turning,  with 
his  left  arm  still  across  his  face,  he  held  out  his 
right  hand,  and  I  took  it. 

"I  do  not  want  you  to  do  that.  All  I  want  is 
decent  treatment — ordinary  civility,"  he  faltered 
between  his  sobs.  Then  he  turned  back  and 
leaned  against  the  door,  for  he  could  scarcely 
stand.  And  so  standing,  he  made  the  most 
forcible,  the  most  eloquent,  and  the  most  burning 
defence  of  his  people  I  have  ever  heard. 

"They  have  civilized  the  world,"  he  declared, 
"and  what  have  they  gotten  from  it  but  brutal 
barbarism.  They  gave  you  your  laws  and  your 
literature,  your  morality  and  your  religion — even 
your  Christ;  and  you  have  violated  every  law, 
human  and  divine,  in  their  oppression.  You 
invaded  our  land,  ravaged  our  country,  and 
scattered  us  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  trying 
to  destroy  our  very  name  and  Nation.  But  the 
God  of  Israel  was  our  refuge  and  consolation. 
You  crucified  Jesus  and  then  visited  it  on  us. 
You  have  perpetuated  an  act  of  age-long  hypoc 
risy,  and  have,  in  the  name  of  the  Prince  of  Peace, 
brutalized  over  his  people.  The  cross  was  your 
means  of  punishment — no  Jew  ever  used  it. 
But  if  we  had  crucified  him  it  would  have  been 
in  the  name  of  Law  and  Order;  your  crucifixion 

29 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

was  in  the  name  of  Contempt;  and  you  have 
crucified  a  whole  people  through  the  ages — the 
one  people  who  have  ever  stood  for  the  one  God; 
who  have  stood  for  Morality  and  for  Peace.  A 
Jew!  Yes,  I  am  a  Jew.  I  thank  the  God  of 
Israel  that  I  am.  For  as  he  saved  the  world  in 
the  past,  so  he  will  save  it  in  the  future." 

This  was  only  a  part  of  it,  and  not  the  best 
part;  but  it  gave  me  a  new  insight  into  his  mind. 

When  he  was  through  I  was  ready.  I  had 
reached  my  decision. 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  I  said,  "not  on  your  ac 
count,  but  on  my  own,  and  make  my  statement 
before  the  whole  crowd.  They  are  still  on  the  hill. 
Then,  if  any  one  wants  to  fight,  he  can  get  it.  I 
will  fight  Peck." 

He  repeated  that  he  did  not  want  me  to  do 
this,  and  he  would  not  go;  which  was  as  well,  for 
I  might  not  have  been  able  to  say  so  much  in  his 
presence.  So  I  went  alone  with  my  seconds, 
whom  I  immediately  sought. 

I  found  the  latter  working  over  a  cartel  at  a 
table  in  the  next  room,  and  I  walked  in.  They 
looked  as  solemn  as  owls,  but  I  broke  them  up  in 
a  moment. 

"You  can  stop  this  infernal  foolishness.  I  have 
apologized  to  Wolffert.  I  have  treated  him  like 

30 


THE  FIGHT 

a  pig,  and  so  have  you.  And  I  have  told  him  so, 
and  now  I  am  going  out  to  tell  the  other  fellows." 

Their  astonishment  was  unbounded  and,  at 
least,  one  of  the  group  was  sincerely  disappointed. 
I  saw  Peck's  face  fall  at  my  words  and  then  he 
elevated  his  nose  and  gave  a  little  sniff. 

"Well,  it  did  not  come  from  our  side,"  he  said 
in  a  half  undertone  with  a  sneer. 

I  suddenly  exploded.    His  cold  face  was  so  evil. 

"No,  it  did  not.  I  made  it  freely  and  frankly, 
and  I  am  going  to  make  it  publicly.  But  if  you 
are  disappointed,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  you  can 
have  a  little  affair  on  your  own  account.  And  in 
order  that  there  may  be  no  want  of  pretext,  I 
wish  to  tell  you  that  I  believe  you  have  been  tell 
ing  lies  on  me,  and  I  consider  you  a  damned, 
sneaking  hypocrite." 

There  was  a  commotion,  of  course,  and  the 
others  all  jumped  in  between  us.  And  when  it 
was  over,  I  walked  out.  Three  minutes  later  I 
was  on  the  hill  among  the  crowd,  which  now 
numbered  several  hundred,  for  they  were  all  wait 
ing  to  learn  the  result;  and,  standing  on  a  bench, 
I  told  them  what  I  had  said  to  Wolffert  and  how  I 
felt  I  owed  him  a  public  apology,  not  for  one 
insult,  but  for  a  hundred.  There  was  a  silence 
for  a  second,  and  then  such  a  cheer  broke  out  as 

31 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  never  got  any  other  time  in  my  life!  Cheers  for 
Wolffert,  cheers  for  Marvel,  and  even  cheers  for 
me.  And  then  a  freckled  youth  with  a  big  mouth 
and  a  blue,  merry  eye  broke  the  tension  by  saying: 

"All  bets  are  off  and  we  sha'n't  have  a  holiday 
to-morrow  at  all."  The  reprobates  had  been  bet 
ting  on  which  of  us  would  fall,  and  had  been 
banking  on  a  possible  holiday. 

Quite  a  crowd  went  to  Wolffert's  room  to  make 
atonement  for  any  possible  slight  they  had  put 
on  him;  but  he  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  But 
that  night  he  and  Marvel  sat  at  our  table  and  al 
ways  sat  there  afterward.  He  illustrated  George 
Borrow's  observation  that  good  manners  and  a 
knowledge  of  boxing  will  take  one  through  the 
world. 


32 


IV 


DELILAH 

IV/TY  career  at  college  promised  at  one  time 
after  that  to  be  almost  creditable,  but  it 
ended  in  nothing.  I  was  not  a  good  student, 
because,  I  flattered  myself,  I  was  too  good  a 
fellow.  I  loved  pleasure  too  much  to  apply  my 
self  to  work,  and  was  too  self-indulgent  to  deny 
myself  anything.  I  despised  the  plodding  ways 
of  cold-blooded  creatures  like  Peck  even  more 
than  I  did  the  dulness  of  John  Marvel.  Why 
should  I  delve  at  Latin  and  Greek  and  mathe 
matics  when  I  had  all  the  poets  and  novelists  ?  I 
was  sure  that  when  the  time  came  I  could  read  up 
and  easily  overtake  and  surpass  the  tortoise-like 
monotony  of  Peck's  plodding.  I  now  and  then  had 
an  uneasy  realization  that  Peck  was  developing, 
and  that  John  Marvel,  to  whom  I  used  to  read 
Latin,  had  somehow  come  to  understand  the  lan 
guage  better  than  I.  However,  this  was  only  an 
occasional  awakening,  and  the  idea  was  too  un 
pleasant  for  me  to  harbor  it  long.  Meantime,  I 
would  enjoy  myself  and  prepare  to  bear  off  the 

33 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

more  shining  honors  of  the  orator  and  society- 
medallist. 

At  the  very  end  I  did,  indeed,  arouse  myself, 
for  I  had  a  new  incentive.  I  fell  in  love.  Toward 
the  mid-session  holiday  the  place  always  filled  up 
with  pretty  girls.  Usually  they  came  just  after 
"the  exams " ;  but  occasionally  some  of  them  came 
a  little  in  advance:  those  who  were  bent  on  con 
quest.  At  such  times,  only  cold  anchorites  like 
Marvel,  or  calculating  machines  like  Peck,  stuck 
to  their  books.  Among  the  fair  visitants  this  year 
was  one  whose  reputation  for  beauty  had  already 
preceded  her:  Miss  Lilian  Poole.  She  was  the 
daughter  of  a  banker  in  the  capital  of  the  State, 
and  by  all  accounts  was  a  tearing  belle.  She  had 
created  a  sensation  at  the  Mardi  Gras  the  year 
before,  and  one  who  could  do  that  must  be  a 
beauty.  She  was  reported  more  beautiful  than 
Isabelle  Henderson,  the  noted  beauty  of  the  Cres 
cent  city,  whom  she  was  said  to  resemble.  Cer 
tainly,  she  was  not  lacking  in  either  looks  or 
intelligence ;  for  those  who  had  caught  a  glimpse 
of  her  declared  her  a  Goddess.  I  immediately 
determined  that  I  would  become  her  cavalier  for 
the  occasion.  And  I  so  announced  to  the  dozen 
or  more  fellows  who  composed  our  set.  They 
laughed  at  me. 

34 


DELILAH 

"Why,  you  do  not  know  her." 

"But  I  shall  know  her." 

"You  are  not  on  speaking  terms  with  Professor 
Sterner" — the  Professor  of  Mathematics  at  whose 
house  she  was  stopping.  The  Professor,  a  log 
arithmic  machine,  and  I  had  had  a  falling  out  not 
long  before.  He  had  called  on  me  for  a  recita 
tion,  one  morning  after  a  dance,  and  I  had  said, 
"I  am  not  prepared,  sir." 

"You  never  are  prepared,"  he  said,  which  the 
class  appeared  to  think  amusing.  He  glanced 
over  the  room. 

"Mr.  Peck." 

Peck,  also,  had  been  at  the  dance  the  night 
before,  though  he  said  he  had  a  headache,  and 
caused  much  amusement  by  his  gambols  and  an 
tics,  which  were  like  those  of  a  cow;  I  therefore 
expected  him  to  say,  "unprepared"  also.  But 
not  so. 

"I  was  unwell  last  night,  sir." 

"Ah!  Well,  I  am  glad,  at  least,  that  you  have 
some  sort  of  a  legitimate  excuse." 

I  flamed  out  and  rose  to  my  feet. 

"Are  you  alluding  to  me,  sir?" 

' '  Take  your  seat,  sir.  I  deny  your  right  to  ques 
tion  me." 

"I  will  not  take  my  seat.  I  do  not  propose  to 
35 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

sit  still  and  be  insulted.  I  demand  an  answer  to 
my  question." 

"Take  your  seat,  I  say.  I  will  report  you  to  the 
Faculty,"  he  shouted. 

"Then  you  will  have  to  do  so  very  quickly;  for 
I  shall  report  you  immediately."  And  with  that 
I  stalked  out  of  the  room.  The  Faculty  met  that 
afternoon  and  I  laid  my  complaint  before  them, 
and  as  the  students,  knowing  the  inside  facts,  took 
my  side,  the  Faculty  held  that  the  Professor  com 
mitted  the  first  breach  and  reprimanded  us  both. 
I  was  well  satisfied  after  I  had  met  and  cut  the 
Professor  publicly. 

I  now  acknowledge  the  untowardness  of  the 
situation;  but  when  the  boys  laughed,  I  pooh- 
poohed  it. 

"I  do  not  speak  to  old  Sterner,  but  I  will  speak 
to  her  the  first  time  I  meet  her." 

"I  will  bet  you  do  not,"  cried  Sam  Pleasants. 

"Supper  for  the  crowd,"  chimed  in  several. 
They  were  always  as  ready  to  bet  as  their  long 
haired  ancestors  were  in  the  German  forests,  where 
they  bet  themselves  away,  and  kept  their  faith, 
to  the  amazement  of  a  Roman  gentleman,  who 
wrote,  " istam  vacant  fidem." 

We  were  all  in  a  room,  the  windows  of  which 
looked  across  the  lawn  toward  the  pillared  portico 

36 


DELILAH 

of  Professor  Sterner's  house,  and  some  of  the  boys 
were  gazing  over  toward  the  mansion  that  shel 
tered  the  subject  of  our  thoughts.  And  as  it  hap 
pened,  at  that  moment,  the  door  opened  and  out 
stepped  the  young  lady  herself,  in  a  smart  walking 
costume,  topped  by  a  large  hat  with  a  great, 
drooping,  beguiling,  white  ostrich  feather.  An 
exclamation  drew  us  all  to  the  window. 

" There  she  is  now!"  Without  doubt,  that  was 
she, 

"  Jo ve !    What  a  stunner ! ' ' 

"She  is  alone.    There  is  your  chance." 

"Yes,  this  is  the  first  time  you  have  seen  her; 
now  stop  jawing  and  play  ball." 

"Or  pay  up." 

"Yes,  supper  for  the  crowd:  porterhouse  steak, 
chicken,  and  waffles  to  end  with." 

So  they  nagged  me,  one  and  all. 

"Done,"  I  said,  "I  will  do  it  now." 

"You  have  never  seen  her  before?" 

' l  Never. ' '  I  was  arranging  my  tie  and  brushing 
my  hair. 

"You  swear  it?" 

But  I  hurried  out  of  the  door  and  slammed  it 
behind  me. 

I  turned  down  the  walk  that  led  across  the  cam 
pus  to  the  point  whither  Miss  Poole  was  directing 

37 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

her  steps,  and  I  took  a  gait  that  I  judged  should 
meet  her  at  the  intersection  of  the  walks.  I  was 
doing  some  hard  thinking,  for  I  knew  the  window 
behind  me  was  crowded  with  derisive  faces. 

As  I  approached  her  I  cast  my  eye  at  her,  and 
a  glance  nearly  overthrew  my  resolution.  She 
was,  indeed,  a  charming  picture  as  she  advanced, 
though  I  caught  little  more  than  a  general  impres 
sion  of  a  slim,  straight,  statuesque  figure,  a  pink 
face,  surmounted  by  a  profusion  of  light  hair, 
under  a  big  hat  with  white  feathers,  and  a  pair  of 
bluish  eyes.  I  glanced  away,  but  not  before  she 
had  caught  my  eye.  Just  then  a  whistle  sounded 
behind  me,  and  my  nerve  returned.  I  suddenly 
quickened  my  pace,  and  held  out  my  hand. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do?"  I  exclaimed  with  well- 
feigned  surprise  and  pleasure,  plumping  myself 
directly  in  front  of  her.  She  paused;  looked  at 
me,  hesitated,  and  then  drew  back  slightly. 

"I  think — ,  I —  You  have  made  a  mistake,  I 
think." 

"Why,  do  you  not  remember  Henry  Glave?  Is 
this  not  Miss  Belle  Henderson?"  I  asked  in  a  mys 
tified  way. 

"No,  I  am  not  Miss  Henderson." 

"Oh!  I  beg  your  pardon — I  thought—  "  I  began. 
Then,  as  I  moved  back  a  little,  I  added,  "Then  you 

38 


DELILAH 

must  be  Miss  Lilian  Poole ;  for  there  cannot  be  more 
than  two  like  you  on  earth.    I  beg  your  pardon." 

I  backed  away. 

"I  am,"  she  said.  Her  mounting  color  showed 
that  she  was  at  least  not  angry,  and  she  gave 
proof  of  it. 

"Can  you  tell  me?  Is  not  that  the  way  to  Dr. 
Davis's  house?" 

"Yes — I  will  show  you  which  it  is."  My  man 
ner  had  become  most  respectful. 

"Oh!    Don't  trouble  yourself,  I  beg  you." 

"It  is  not  the  least  trouble,"  I  said  sincerely, 
and  it  was  the  only  truth  I  had  told.  I  walked 
back  a  few  steps,  hat  in  hand,  pointing  eagerly  to 
the  house.  And  as  I  left,  I  said,  "I  hope  you  will 
pardon  my  stupid  mistake." 

"Oh!  I  do  not  think  it  stupid.  She  is  a 
beauty." 

"/  think  so."  I  bowed  low.  I  saw  the  color 
rise  again  as  I  turned  away,  much  pleased  with 
myself,  and  yet  a  good  deal  ashamed,  too. 

When  I  returned  to  "the  lair,"  as  we  termed 
Sam  Pleasants's  room,  the  boys  seized  me.  They 
were  like  howling  dervishes.  But  I  had  grown 
serious.  I  was  very  much  ashamed  of  myself. 
And  I  did  the  only  decent  thing  I  could — I  lied,  or 
as  good  as  lied. 

39 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"I  will  give  the  supper  if  you  will  stop  this  yell 
ing.  Do  you  suppose  I  would  make  a  bet  about 
a  girl  I  did  not  know?" 

This  took  the  spirit  out  of  the  thing,  and  only 
one  of  them  knew  the  truth.  Marvel,  who  was 
present,  looked  at  me  seriously,  and  that  night 
said  to  me  half  sadly, 

"You  ought  not  to  have  done  that." 

"What?  I  know  it.  It  was  an  ungentlemanly 
thing." 

"I  do  not  mean  that.  You  ought  not  to  have 
told  a  story  afterward." 

How  he  knew  it  I  never  knew. 

But  I  had  gotten  caught  in  my  own  mesh.  I 
had  walked  into  the  little  parlor  without  any  in 
vitation,  and  I  was  soon  hopelessly  entangled  in 
the  web  at  which  I  had  hitherto  scoffed.  I  fell 
violently  in  love. 

I  soon  overcame  the  little  difficulty  that  stood 
in  my  way.  And,  indeed,  I  think  Miss  Lilian 
Poole  rather  helped  me  out  about  this.  I  did  not 
allow  grass  to  grow  under  my  feet,  or  any  impres 
sion  I  had  made  to  become  effaced.  I  quickly 
became  acquainted  with  my  Diana-like  young 
lady;  that  is,  to  speak  more  exactly,  I  got  myself 
presented  to  her,  for  my  complete  acquaintance 
with  her  was  of  later  date,  when  I  had  spent  all  the 

40 


DELILAH 

little  patrimony  I  had.  I  saw  immediately  that 
she  knew  the  story  of  the  wager,  though  she  did 
not  at  that  time  refer  to  it,  and  so  far  as  I  could 
tell,  she  did  not  resent  it.  She,  at  least,  gave  no 
sign  of  it.  I  asked  her  to  allow  me  to  escort  her  to 
a  German,  but  she  had  an  engagement. 

"Who  is  it?"  I  inquired  rather  enviously. 

She  had  a  curious  expression  in  her  eyes — 
which,  by  the  way,  were  a  cool  blue  or  gray,  I 
never  could  be  sure  which,  and  at  times  looked 
rather  like  steel. 

She  hesitated  a  moment  and  her  little  mouth 
drew  in  somewhat  closely. 

"Mr.  Peck."  Her  voice  was  a  singular  instru 
ment.  It  had  so  great  a  compass  and  possessed 
some  notes  that  affected  me  strangely;  but  it  also 
could  be  without  the  least  expression.  So  it  was 
now  when  she  said,  "Mr.  Peck,"  but  she  colored 
slightly,  as  I  burst  out  laughing. 

"Peck!  Pecksniff?  Did  you  ever  see  him 
dance?  I  should  as  soon  have  thought  of  your 
dancing  with  a  clothes-horse." 

She  appeared  somewhat  troubled. 

"Does  he  dance  so  badly  as  that?  He  told  me 
he  danced." 

"So  he  does — like  this."  I  gave  an  imitation  of 
Peck's  gyrations,  in  which  I  was  so  earnest  that  I 

41 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

knocked  over  a  table  and  broke  a  fine  lamp,  to  my 
great  consternation. 

"Well,  you  are  realistic,"  observed  Miss  Poole, 
calmly,  who  struck  me  as  not  so  much  concerned 
at  my  misfortune  as  I  might  have  expected. 
When,  however,  she  saw  how  really  troubled  I 
was,  she  was  more  sympathetic. 

"Perhaps,  if  we  go  out,  they  will  not  know  who 
did  it,"  she  observed. 

"Well,  no,  I  could  not  do  that,"  I  said,  thinking 
of  Peck,  and  then  as  her  expression  did  not  change, 
I  fired  a  shot  that  I  meant  to  tell.  "Peck  would 
do  that  sort  of  thing.  /  shall  tell  them." 

To  this  she  made  no  reply.  She  only  looked 
inscrutably  pretty.  But  it  often  came  back 
to  me  afterward  how  calmly  and  quite  as  a  mat 
ter  of  course  she  suggested  my  concealing  the 
accident,  and  I  wondered  if  she  thought  I  was 
a  liar. 

She  had  a  countenance  that  I  once  thought  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world;  but  which 
changed  rarely.  Its  only  variations  were  from  an 
infantile  beauty  to  a  statuesque  firmness. 

Yet  that  girl,  with  her  rather  set  expression  and 
infantile  face,  her  wide  open,  round  eyes  and  pink 
prettiness,  was  as  deep  as  a  well,  and  an  artesian 
well  at  that. 

42 


DELILAH 

I  soon  distanced  all  rivals.  Peck  was  quickly 
disposed  of;  though,  with  his  nagging  persistence, 
he  still  held  on.  This  bored  me  exceedingly  and 
her  too,  if  I  could  judge  by  her  ridicule  of  him  and 
her  sarcasm,  which  he  somehow  appeared  too 
stupid  to  see.  He  succumbed,  however,  to  my 
mimicry  of  his  dancing;  for  I  was  a  good  mimic, 
and  Peck,  in  a  very  high  collar  and  with  very 
short  trousers  on  his  dumpy  legs,  was  really  a  fair 
mark.  Miss  Poole  was  by  no  means  indifferent 
to  public  opinion,  and  a  shaft  of  satire  could  pene 
trate  her  mail  of  complacency.  So  when  she  re 
turned  later  to  the  classic  shades  of  the  university, 
as  she  did  a  number  of  times  for  Germans,  and 
other  social  functions,  I  made  a  good  deal  of  hay. 
A  phrase  of  Peck's,  apropos  of  this,  stuck  in  my 
memory.  Some  one — it  was,  I  think,  Leo  Wolf- 
fert — said  that  I  appeared  to  be  making  hay,  and 
Peck  said,  "Yes,  I  would  be  eating  it  some  day." 
I  often  wondered  afterward  how  he  stumbled  on 
the  witticism. 

Those  visits  of  my  tall  young  dulcinea  cost  me 
dear  in  the  sequel.  While  the  other  fellows  were 
boning  I  was  lounging  in  the  drawing-room  chatter 
ing  nonsense  or  in  the  shade  of  the  big  trees  in 
some  secluded  nook,  writing  her  very  warm  poems 
of  the  character  which  Horace  says  is  hated  both 

43 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

of  gods  and  men.  Several  of  these  poems  were 
published  in  the  college  magazine.  The  constant 
allusions  to  her  physical  charms  caused  Peck  to 
say  that  I  evidently  considered  Miss  Poole  to  be 
"composed  wholly  of  eyes  and  hair."  His  obser 
vation  that  a  man  was  a  fool  to  write  silly  verses 
to  a  girl  he  loved,  because  it  gave  her  a  wrong  idea 
of  her  charms,  I,  at  the  time,  set  down  to  sheer 
envy,  for  Peck  could  not  turn  a  rhyme ;  but  since 
I  have  discovered  that,  for  a  practical  person  like 
Peck,  it  has  a  foundation  of  truth. 


44 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 

A/TEANTIME,  my  studies — if  any  part  of  my 
desultory  occupation  could  be  so  termed— 
suffered  undeniably.  My  appearance  at  the  class 
room  door  with  a  cigarette,  which  I  flung  away 
just  in  time  not  to  carry  it  into  the  room,  together 
with  my  chronic  excuse  of  being  "unprepared," 
moved  the  dryest  of  my  professors  to  the  witticism 
that  I  "divided  my  time  between  a  smoke  and  a 
flame."  It  was  only  as  the  finals  drew  near  that  I 
began  to  appreciate  that  I  would  have  the  least 
trouble  in  "making  my  tickets,"  as  the  phrase 
went.  Sam  Pleasants,  Leo  Wolffert,  and  my  other 
friends  had  begun  to  be  anxious  for  me  for  some 
time  before — and  both  Wolffert  and  John  Marvel 
had  come  to  me  and  suggested  my  working,  at 
least,  a  little :  Wolffert  with  delicacy  and  warmth ; 
John  Marvel  with  that  awkward  bluntness  with 
which  he  always  went  at  anything.  I  felt  per 
fectly  easy  in  my  mind  then  and  met  their  en 
treaties  scornfully. 

45 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Why,  I  did  well  enough  at  the  Intermediates," 
I  said. 

"Yes,  but,"  said  John  Marvel,  "Delilah  was  not 
here  then — 

I  was  conscious,  even  though  I  liked  the  refer 
ence  to  Samson,  of  being  a  little  angered;  but 
John  Marvel  looked  so  innocent  and  so  hopelessly 
friendly  that  I  passed  it  by  with  a  laugh  and  paid 
Miss  Poole  more  attention  than  ever. 

The  Debater's  Medal  had  for  a  long  time  been,  in 
the  general  estimation,  as  good  as  accorded  me; 
for  I  was  a  fluent  and,  I  personally  thought,  elo 
quent  speaker,  and  had  some  reading.  But  when 
Wolffert  entered  the  debate,  his  speeches  so  far 
outshone  mine  that  I  knew  at  once  that  I  was  beat. 
They  appeared  not  so  much  prepared  for  show,  as 
mine  were,  as  to  come  from  a  storehouse  of  reading 
and  reflection.  Wolffert,  who  had  begun  to  speak 
without  any  design  of  entering  the  contest  for 
the  Medal,  would  generously  have  retired,  but  I 
would  not  hear  of  that.  I  called  Peck  to  account 
for  a  speech  which  I  had  heard  of  his  making :  that 
"the  contest  was  between  a  Jew  and  a  jug";  but 
he  denied  making  it,  so  I  lost  even  that  satisfaction. 

I  worked  for  the  Magazine  Medal;  but  my 
"poems"— to  "Cynthia"  and  "To  Felicia,"  and 
my  fanciful  sketches,  though  they  were  thought 

46 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 

fine  by  our  set,  did  not,  in  the  estimation  of  the 
judges,  equal  the  serious  and  solemn  essays  on 
Julius  Caesar  and  Alexander  Hamilton,  to  which 
the  prize  was  awarded.  At  least,  the  author  of 
those  essays  had  worked  over  them  like  a  dog, 
and  in  the  maturer  light  of  experience,  I  think  he 
earned  the  prizes. 

I  worked  hard — at  least,  at  the  last,  for  my  law 
degree,  and  every  one  was  sure  I  would  win — as 
sure  as  that  Peck  would  lose;  but  Peck  scraped 
through  while  mine  was  held  up — because  the  night 
before  the  degrees  were  posted  I  insisted  on  prov 
ing  to  the  professor  who  had  my  fate  in  his  hands, 
and  whom  I  casually  ran  into,  that  a  "gentleman 
drunk  was  a  gentleman  sober,"  the  idea  having 
been  suggested  to  my  muddled  brain  by  my  having 
just  been  good-natured  enough  to  put  to  bed  Peck. 
I  finally  got  the  degree,  but  not  until  I  had  been 
through  many  tribulations,  one  of  which  was  the 
sudden  frost  in  Miss  Poole's  manner  to  me.  That 
girl  was  like  autumn  weather.  She  could  be  as 
warm  as  summer  one  minute  and  the  next  the 
thermometer  would  drop  below  the  freezing  point. 
I  remember  I  was  her  escort  the  evening  of  the 
Final  Ball.  She  looked  like  Juno  with  the  flowers 
I  had  gone  out  in  the  country  to  get  for  her  from 
an  old  garden  that  I  knew.  Her  face  was  very 

47 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

high  bred  and  her  pose  majestic.  I  was  immensely 
proud  of  her  and  of  myself  as  her  escort — and  as 
Peck  stalked  in  with  a  new  and  ill-fitting  suit  of 
"store-clothes"  on,  I  fancy  I  put  on  my  toppiest 
air.  But  Peck  had  a  shaft  and  he  came  there  to 
shoot  it.  As  he  passed  near  us,  he  said  in  a  loud 
voice  to  some  one,  "The  B.  L.  list  is  posted." 

"Are  you  through?"  demanded  the  other. 

"Yep." 

"Anybody  failed 't  we  expected  to  get  through?  " 

' '  JT  depends  on  who  you  expected  to  get  through. 
Glave's  not  on  it." 

His  shaft  came  home.  I  grew  cold  for  a  minute 
and  then  recovered  myself.  I  saw  my  partner's 
face  change.  I  raised  my  head  and  danced  on 
apparently  gayer  than  ever,  though  my  heart  was 
lead.  And  she  played  her  part  well,  too.  But  a 
few  minutes  later  when  Peck  strutted  up,  a  de 
cided  cock  to  his  bullet  head,  I  heard  her,  as  I 
turned  away,  congratulate  him  on  his  success. 

I  slipped  out  and  went  over  to  the  bulletin-board 
where  the  degree-men  were  posted,  and  sure  enough 
I  was  not  among  them.  A  curious  crowd  was  still 
standing  about  and  they  stopped  talking  as  I  came 
up,  so  I  knew  they  had  been  talking  about  me.  I 
must  say  that  all  showed  concern,  and  sympathy 
was  written  on  every  face.  It  was,  at  least,  sweet 

48 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 

to  know  that  they  all  considered  it  a  cursed  shame, 
and  set  my  failure  down  to  hostility  on  the  part  of 
one  of  the  professors.  I  was  determined  that  no 
one  should  know  how  hard  hit  I  was,  and  I  carried 
my  head  high  till  the  ball  was  out,  and  was  so 
lofty  with  Miss  Poole  that  she  was  mystified  into 
being  very  receptive.  I  do  not  know  what  might 
have  happened  that  night  if  it  had  not  been  for 
old  John  Marvel.  I  learned  afterward  that  I  was 
pretty  wild.  He  found  me  when  I  was  wildly 
denouncing  the  law  professor  who  had  failed  to 
put  me  through  in  some  minor  course,  and  was 
vowing  that  I  would  smash  in  his  door  and  force 
my  diploma  from  him.  I  might  have  been  crazy 
enough  to  attempt  it  had  not  old  John  gotten  hold 
of  me.  He  and  Wolff ert  put  me  to  bed  and  stayed 
with  me  till  I  was  sober.  And  sober  enough  I  was 
next  day. 

As  I  have  said,  I  received  my  diploma  finally; 
but  I  lost  all  the  prestige  and  pleasure  of  receiv 
ing  it  along  with  my  class,  and  I  passed  through 
some  of  the  bitterest  hours  that  a  young  man  can 
know. 

Among  my  friends  at  college — I  might  say 
among  my  warmest  friends — was  my  old  crony 
"  Jeams,"  or,  as  he  spoke  of  himself  to  those  whom 
he  did  not  regard  as  his  social  equals,  or  whom  he 

49 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

wanted  to  amuse  himself  with,  "Mister  Wood- 
son";  a  little  later  changed  to  "Professor  Wood- 
son,"  as  more  dignified  and  consonant  with  the 
managing  class  of  the  institution.  When  I  left 
for  college  he  followed  me,  after  a  brief  interval, 
and  first  appeared  as  a  waiter  at  the  college 
boarding-house  where  I  boarded,  having  used  my 
name  as  a  reference,  though  at  home  he  had  never 
been  nearer  the  dining-room  than  the  stable. 
Here  he  was  promptly  turned  out,  and  thereupon 
became  a  hanger-on  of  mine  and  a  "Factotum" 
for  me  and  my  friends. 

He  was  now  a  tall,  slim  fellow,  with  broad 
shoulders  and  the  muscles  of  Atlas — almost  but 
not  quite  black  and  with  a  laugh  that  would  have 
wiled  Cerberus..  He  had  the  shrewdness  of  a  wild 
animal,  and  was  as  imitative  as  a  monkey,  and 
this  faculty  had  inspired  and  enabled  him  to  pick 
up  all  sorts  of  acquirements,  ranging  from  reading 
and  writing  to  sleight-of-hand  tricks,  for  which  he 
showed  a  remarkable  aptitude.  Moreover,  he  had 
plenty  of  physical  courage,  and  only  needed  to 
be  backed  by  some  one,  on  whom  he  relied,  to  do 
anything. 

I  was  naturally  attached  to  him  and  put  up  with 
his  rascalities,  though  they  often  taxed  me  sorely, 
while  he,  on  his  part,  was  so  sincerely  attached  to 

50 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 

me,  that  I  believe  he  would  have  committed  any 
crime  at  my  bidding. 

He  considered  my  old  clothes  his  property,  and 
what  was  far  more  inconvenient,  considered  him 
self  the  judge  of  the  exact  condition  and  moment 
when  they  should  pass  from  my  possession  to  his. 

He  was  a  handsome  rascal,  and  took  at  times 
such  pride  in  his  appearance  that,  as  he  was  about 
my  size,  I  had  often  to  exercise  a  close  watch  on 
my  meagre  wardrobe.  He  had  not  only  good,  but 
really  distinguished  manners,  and,  like  many  of 
his  race,  prided  himself  on  his  manners.  Thus, 
on  an  occasion  when  he  passed  Peck  at  college, 
and  touched  his  hat  to  him,  a  civility  which  Peck 
ignored,  Wolff ert  said  to  him,  "Jeams,  Mr.  Peck 
don't  appear  to  recognize  you." 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  Jeams,  "he  recognizes  me,  but 
he  don't  recognize  what's  due  from  one  gent'man 
to  another." 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  on  touching  your  hat 
to  him?"  asked  Wolffert. 

"Oh,  yes,  suh,"  said  Jeams;  "I  takes  keer  o'  my 
manners,  and  lets  him  take  keer  o'  hisn'." 

Such  was  "Jeams,"  my  "body  servant,"  as  he 
styled  himself,  on  occasions  when  he  had  an  eye  to 
some  article  of  my  apparel  or  stood  in  especial 
need  of  a  donation. 

51 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

He  hated  Peck  with  as  much  violence  as  his 
easy-going  nature  was  capable  of,  and  had  no  lik 
ing  for  Wolfifert.  The  fact  that  the  latter  was  a 
Jew  and  yet  my  friend,  staggered  him,  though  he 
put  up  with  him  for  my  sake,  and  on  the  night  of 
my  fight  with  Wolfifert,  I  think  he  would,  had  he 
had  a  chance,  have  murdered  him,  as  I  am  sure  he 
would  have  murdered  the  professor  who  threw  me 
on  my  degree.  He  got  much  fuller  than  I  got  that 
night,  and  his  real  grief  and  shame  were  among  the 
heaviest  burdens  I  had  to  bear. 

Miss  Poole  returned  home  the  next  afternoon 
after  the  delivery  of  the  diplomas,  and  I  heard  that 
Peck  went  ofif  on  the  same  train  with  her. 

I  expected  some  sympathy  from  the  girl  for 
whom  my  devotion  had  cost  me  so  much ;  but  she 
was  as  cool  and  sedate  over  my  failure  as  if  it  had 
been  Peck's. 

All  she  said  was,  "Why  did  not  you  win  the 
honors?" 

"Because  I  did  not  work  enough  for  them." 

"Why  did  not  you  work  more?" 

I  came  near  saying,  "Because  I  was  fooling 
around  you";  but  I  simply  said,  "Because  I  was 
so  certain  of  winning  them." 

' '  You  showed  rather  bad  judgment."  That  was 
all  the  sympathy  I  received  from  her. 

52 


THE  HARE  AND  THE  TORTOISE 

The  old  law  professor  when  he  took  leave  of  me 
said — and  I  remember  said  it  gravely — "Mr.  Glave, 
you  have  the  burden  of  too  many  gifts  to  carry." 

I  was  pleased  by  the  speech  and  showed  it.  He 
looked  at  me  keenly  from  under  his  bushy  eye 
brows.  "I  commend  to  you  the  fable  of  the  hare 
and  the  tortoise.  We  shall  hear  of  Peck." 

I  wondered  how  he  knew  I  was  thinking  of 
Peck  with  his  common  face,  hard  eyes,  and  stumpy 


:<You  shall  hear  of  me,  too,"  I  declared  with 
some  haughtiness. 

He  only  smiled  politely  and  made  no  answer. 

Nettled,  I  asked  arrogantly,  "Don't  you  think  I 
have  more  sense — more  intellect  than  Peck?" 

' '  More  intellect  —  yes  —  much  more. — More 
sense?  No.  Remember  the  fable.  'There  are 
ways  that  you  know  not  and  paths  that  you 
have  not  tried.' ' 

"Oh!  that  fable— it  is  as  old  as " 

' '  Humanity,"  he  said.  " ' To  scorn  delights  and 
live  laborious  days.'  You  will  never  do  that — 
Peck  will." 

I  left  him,  angry  and  uncomfortable. 

I  had  rather  looked  forward  to  going  to  the  West 
to  a  near  cousin  of  my  father's,  who,  if  report  were 
true,  had  made  a  fortune  as  a  lawyer  and  an  in- 

53 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

vestor  in  a  Western  city.  He  and  my  father  had 
been  boys  together,  but  my  cousin  had  gone  West, 
and  when  the  war  came  he  had  taken  the  other 
side.  My  father,  however,  always  retained  his  re 
spect  for  him  and  spoke  of  him  with  affection.  He 
had  been  to  my  home  during  my  early  college  life 
— a  big,  stolid,  strong-faced  man,  silent  and  cold, 
but  watchful  and  clear-minded — and  had  ap 
peared  to  take  quite  a  fancy  to  me. 

"When  he  gets  through,"  he  had  said  to  my 
father,  "send  him  out  to  me.  That  is  the  place 
for  brains  and  ambition,  and  I  will  see  what  is  in 
him  for  you." 

Now  that  I  had  failed,  I  could  not  write  to  him ; 
but  as  he  had  made  a  memorandum  of  my  gradua 
tion  year,  and  as  he  had  written  my  father  several 
times,  I  rather  expected  he  would  open  the  way 
for  me.  But  no  letter  came.  So  I  was  content  to 
go  to  the  capital  of  the  State. 


54 


VI 

THE    METEOR 

T  AM  convinced  now  that  as  parents  are  the 
most  unselfish  creatures,  children  are  the 
veriest  brutes  on  earth.  I  was  too  self-absorbed 
to  think  of  my  kind  father,  who  had  sacrificed 
everything  to  give  me  opportunities  which  I  had 
thrown  under  the  feet  of  Lilian  Poole  and  who 
now  consoled  and  encouraged  me  without  a  word 
of  censure.  Though  I  was  deeply  grieved  at  the 
loss  of  my  parents,  I  did  not  know  until  years 
afterward  what  an  elemental  and  life-long  calam 
ity  that  loss  was. 

My  father  appeared  as  much  pleased  with  my 
single  success  as  if  I  had  brought  him  home  the 
honors  which  I  had  been  boasting  I  would  show 
him.  He  gave  me  only  two  or  three  bits  of  advice 
before  I  left  home.  ' '  Be  careful  with  other  people's 
money  and  keep  out  of  debt,"  he  said.  "Also, 
have  no  dealings  with  a  rascal,  no  matter  how 
tightly  you  think  you  can  tie  him  up."  And  his 

55 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

final  counsel  was,  "Marry  a  lady  and  do  not  marry 
a  fool." 

I  wondered  if  he  were  thinking  of  Lilian  Poole. 

However,  I  had  not  the  least  doubt  in  my  mind 
about  winning  success  both  with  her  and  with  that 
even  more  jealous  Mistress — The  Law.  In  fact, 
I  quite  meant  to  revolutionize  things  by  the  mete 
oric  character  of  my  career. 

I  started  out  well.  I  took  a  good  office  fronting 
on  the  street  in  one  of  the  best  office-buildings— 
an  extravagance  I  could  not  afford.  Peck  had 
a  little  dark  hole  on  the  other  side  of  the  hall. 
He  made  a  half  proposal  to  share  my  office  with 
me,  but  I  could  not  stand  that.  I,  however,  told 
him  that  he  was  welcome  to  use  my  office  and 
books  as  much  as  he  pleased,  and  he  soon  made 
himself  so  much  at  home  in  my  office  that  I  think 
he  rather  fell  into  the  habit  of  thinking  my  clients 
his  own. 

Before  I  knew  many  people  I  worked  hard; 
read  law  and  a  great  deal  of  other  literature.  But 
this  did  not  last  long,  for  I  was  social  and  made 
acquaintances  easily.  Moreover,  I  soon  began  to 
get  cases;  though  they  were  too  small  to  satisfy 
me — quite  below  my  abilities,  I  thought.  So,  un 
less  they  promised  me  a  chance  of  speaking  before 
a  jury,  I  turned  them  over  to  Peck,  who  would 

56 


THE  METEOR 

bone  at  them  and  work  like  a  horse,  though  I  often 
had  to  hunt  up  the  law  for  him,  a  labor  I  never 
knew  him  to  acknowledge. 

At  first  I  used  to  correspond  with  both  John 
Marvel  and  Wolffert;  but  gradually  I  left  their 
letters  unanswered.  John,  who  had  gone  West, 
was  too  full  of  his  country  parish  to  interest  me, 
and  Wolffert's  abstractions  were  too  altruistic  for 
me. 

Meantime,  I  was  getting  on  swimmingly.  I  was 
taken  into  the  best  social  set  in  the  city,  and  was 
soon  quite  a  favorite  among  them.  I  was  made 
a  member  of  all  the  germans  as  well  as  of  the  best 
club  in  town;  was  welcomed  in  the  poker-game 
of  "the  best  fellows"  in  town,  and  was  invited  out 
so  much  that  I  really  had  no  time  to  do  much 
else  than  enjoy  my  social  success.  But  the  chief 
of  the  many  infallible  proofs  I  had  was  my  restora 
tion  to  Lilian  Poole's  favor.  Since  I  was  become 
a  sort  of  toast  with  those  whose  opinion  she  valued 
highly,  she  was  more  cordial  to  me  than  ever, 
and  I  was  ready  enough  to  let  by-gones  be  by 
gones  and  dangle  around  the  handsomest  girl  in 
the  State,  daughter  of  a  man  who  was  president 
of  a  big  bank  and  director  of  a  half-dozen  corpora 
tions.  I  was  with  her  a  great  deal.  In  fact, 
before  my  second  winter  was  out,  my  name  was 

57 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

coupled  with  hers  by  all  of  our  set  and  many  not 
in  our  set.  And  about  three  evenings  every  week 
I  was  to  be  found  basking  in  her  somewhat  steady 
smile,  either  at  some  dance  or  other  social  enter 
tainment;  strolling  with  her  in  the  dusk  on  our 

way  home  from  the  fashionable  promenade  of 

Street — which,  for  some  reason,  she  always  liked, 
though  I  would  often  have  preferred  some  quieter 
walk — or  lounging  on  her  plush-covered  sofa  in  her 
back  drawing-room.  I  should  have  liked  it  better 
had  Peck  taken  the  hint  that  most  of  my  other 
friends  had  taken  and  kept  away  from  her  house 
on  those  evenings  which  by  a  tacit  consent  of 
nearly  every  one  were  left  for  my  visits.  But 
Peck,  who  now  professed  a  great  friendship  for 
me,  must  take  to  coming  on  precisely  the  evenings 
I  had  selected  for  my  calls.  He  never  wore  a 
collar  that  fitted  him,  and  his  boots  were  never 
blacked.  Miss  Lilian  used  to  laugh  at  him  and 
call  him  "the  burr" — indeed,  so  much  that  I  more 
than  once  told  her,  that  while  I  was  not  an  ad 
mirer  of  Peck  myself,  I  thought  the  fact  that  he 
was  really  in  love  with  her  ought  to  secure  him 
immunity  from  her  sarcasm.  We  had  quite  a 
stiff  quarrel  over  the  matter,  and  I  told  her  what 
our  old  law  professor  had  said  of  Peck. 
I  had  rather  thought  that,  possibly,  Mr.  Poole, 
58 


THE  METEOR 

knowing  of  the  growing  relation  of  intimacy  be 
tween  myself  and  his  daughter,  would  throw  a 
little  of  his  law  business  my  way ;  but  he  never  did. 
He  did,  in  fact,  once  consult  me  at  his  own  house 
about  some  extensive  interests  that  he  owned  and 
represented  together  in  a  railway  in  a  Western 
city;  but  though  I  took  the  trouble  to  hunt  up 
the  matter  and  send  him  a  brief  on  the  point 
carefully  prepared,  he  did  not  employ  me,  and 
evidently  considered  that  I  had  acted  only  as  a 
friend.  It  was  in  this  investigation  that  I  first 
heard  of  the  name  Argand  and  also  of  the  P.  D. 
and  B.  D.  RR.  Co.  I  heard  long  afterward  that 
he  said  I  had  too  many  interests  to  suit  him;  that 
he  wanted  a  lawyer  to  give  him  all  his  intellect, 
and  not  squander  it  on  politics,  literature,  sport, 
and  he  did  not  know  what  besides.  This  was  a 
dig  at  my  rising  aspirations  in  each  of  these  fields. 
For  I  used  to  write  now  regularly  for  the  news 
papers,  and  had  one  or  two  articles  accepted  by  a 
leading  monthly  magazine — a  success  on  which 
even  Peck  congratulated  me,  though  he  said  that, 
as  for  him,  he  preferred  the  law  to  any  other 
entertainment.  My  newspaper  work  attracted 
sufficient  attention  to  inspire  me  with  the  idea  of 
running  for  Congress,  and  I  began  to  set  my  traps 
and  lay  my  triggers  for  that. 

59 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

Success  appeared  to  wait  for  me,  and  my  begin 
ning  was  "meteoric." 

Meteoric  beginnings  are  fatal.  The  meteor  soon 
fades  into  outer  darkness — the  outer  darkness  of 
the  infinite  abyss.  I  took  it  for  success  and  pre 
sumed  accordingly,  and  finally  I  came  down.  I 
played  my  game  too  carelessly.  I  began  to 
speculate — just  a  little  at  first;  but  more  largely 
after  awhile.  There  I  appeared  to  find  my  proper 
field;  for  I  made  money  almost  immediately,  and 
I  spent  it  freely,  and,  after  I  had  made  a  few 
thousands,  I  was  regarded  with  respect  by  my 
little  circle. 

I  began  to  make  money  so  much  more  easily 
by  this  means  than  I  had  ever  done  by  the  law  that 
I  no  longer  thought  it  worth  while  to  stay  in  my 
office,  as  I  had  done  at  first,  but  spent  my  time, 
in  a  flock  of  other  lambs,  in  front  of  a  blackboard 
in  a  broker's  office,  figuring  on  chances  which  had 
already  been  decided  in  brokers'  offices  five  hun 
dred  miles  away.  Thus,  though  I  worked  up  well 
the  cases  I  had,  and  was  fairly  successful  with 
them,  I  found  my  clients  in  time  drifting  away 
to  other  men  not  half  as  clever  as  I  was,  who  had 
no  other  aim  than  to  be  lawyers.  Peck  got  some 
of  my  clients.  Indeed,  one  of  my  clients,  in 
warning  me  against  speculating,  which,  he  said, 

60 


THE  METEOR 

ruined  more  young  men  than  faro  and  drink 
together,  told  me  he  had  learned  of  my  habit 
through  Peck.  Peck  was  always  in  his  office  or 
mine.  I  had  made  some  reputation,  however,  as 
a  speaker,  and  as  I  had  taken  an  active  part  in 
politics  and  had  many  friends,  I  stood  a  good 
chance  for  the  commonwealth's  attorneyship ;  but 
I  had  determined  to  fly  higher:  I  wanted  to  go  to 
Congress. 

I  kept  a  pair  of  horses  now,  since  I  was  so  suc 
cessful,  and  used  to  hunt  in  the  season  with  other 
gay  pleasure-lovers,  or  spend  my  afternoons  riding 
with  Miss  Poole,  who  used  to  look  well  on  horse 
back.  We  often  passed  Peck  plodding  along 
alone,  stolid  and  solemn,  "  taking  his  constitu 
tional,"  he  said.  I  remember  once  as  we  passed 
him  I  recalled  what  the  old  professor  had  said  of 
him,  and  I  added  that  I  would  not  be  as  dull  as 
Peck  for  a  fortune.  "Do  you  know,"  said  Miss 
Poole,  suddenly,  "I  do  not  think  him  so  dull;  he 
has  improved."  Peck  sat  me  out  a  few  nights 
after  this,  and  next  day  I  nearly  insulted  him;  but 
he  was  too  dull  to  see  it. 

I  knew  my  young  lady  was  ambitious ;  so  I  de 
termined  to  please  her,  and,  chucking  up  the  fight 
for  the  attorneyship,  I  told  her  I  was  going  to 
Congress,  and  began  to  work  for  it.  I  was  prom- 

61 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

ised  the  support  of  so  many  politicians  that  I 
felt  absolutely  sure  of  the  nomination. 

Peck  told  me  flatly  that  I  did  not  stand  the 
ghost  of  a  show,  and  began  to  figure.  Peck  was 
always  figuring.  He  advised  me  to  stand  for  the 
attorneyship,  and  said  I  might  get  it  if  I  really 
tried.  I  knew  better,  however,  and  I  knew  Peck, 
too,  so  I  started  in.  To  make  a  fight  I  wanted 
money,  and  it  happened  that  a  little  trip  I  had 
taken  in  the  summer,  when  I  was  making  a  sort 
of  a  splurge,  together  with  an  unlooked-for  and 
wholly  inexplicable  adverse  turn  in  the  market 
had  taken  all  my  cash.  So,  to  make  it  up,  I  went 
into  the  biggest  deal  I  ever  tried.  What  was  the 
use  of  fooling  about  a  few  score  dollars  a  point 
when  I  could  easily  make  it  a  thousand?  I  would 
no  longer  play  at  the  shilling  table.  I  had  a 
" dead-open-and-shut  thing"  of  it.  I  had  gotten 
inside  information  of  a  huge  railroad  deal  quietly 
planned,  and  was  let  in  as  a  great  favor  by  influ 
ential  friends,  who  were  close  friends  of  men  who 
were  manipulating  the  market,  and  especially  the 
P.  D.  and  B.  D.,  a  North-western  road  which  had 
been  reorganized  some  years  before.  Mr.  Poole 
had  some  interest  in  it  and  this  made  me  feel 
quite  safe  as  to  the  deal.  I  knew  they  were  stak 
ing  their  fortunes  on  it.  I  was  so  sure  about  it 

62 


THE  METEOR 

that  I  even  advised  Peck,  for  whom  I  had  some 
gratitude  on  account  of  his  advice  about  the  at- 
torneyship,  to  let  me  put  him  in  for  a  little.  But 
he  declined.  He  said  he  had  other  use  for  his 
money,  and  had  made  it  a  rule  not  to  speculate. 
I  told  him  he  was  a  fool,  and  I  borrowed  all  I  could 
and  went  in. 

It  was  the  most  perfectly  managed  affair  I  ever 
saw.  We — our  friends — carried  the  stock  up  to  a 
point  that  was  undreamed  of,  and  money  was  too 
valuable  to  pay  debts  with,  even  had  my  creditors 
wanted  it,  which  they  did  not,  now  that  I  had 
recouped  and  was  again  on  the  crest  of  the  wave. 
I  was  rich  and  was  doubling  up  in  a  pyramid, 
when  one  of  those  things  happened  that  does  not 
occur  once  in  ten  million  times  and  cannot  be 
guarded  against !  We  were  just  prepared  to  dump 
the  whole  business,  when  our  chief  backer,  as  he 
was  on  his  way  in  his  carriage  to  close  the  deal, 
was  struck  by  lightning!  I  was  struck  by  the 
same  bolt.  In  twenty  minutes  I  was  in  debt 
twenty  thousand  dollars.  Telegrams  and  notices 
for  margin  began  to  pour  in  on  me  again  within 
the  hour.  None  of  them  bothered  me  so  much, 
however,  as  a  bank  notice  that  I  had  overchecked 
an  account  in  which  I  had  a  sum  of  a  few  hundred 
dollars  belonging  to  a  client  of  mine — an  old 

63 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

widowed  lady,  Mrs.  Upshur,  who  had  brought  it 
to  me  to  invest  for  her,  and  who  trusted  me.  She 
had  been  robbed  by  her  last  agent  and  this  was 
really  all  that  was  left  her.  I  remembered  how 
she  had  insisted  on  my  keeping  it.  for  her  against 
the  final  attack  of  the  wolf,  she  had  said.  "But 
suppose  I  should  spend  it,"  I  had  said  jesting. 
"Fm  not  afraid  of  your  spending  it,  but  of  myself 
— I  want  so  many  things.  If  I  couldn't  trust  you, 
I'd  give  up."  And  now  it  was  gone.  It  came  to 
me  that  if  I  should  die  at  that  moment  she  would 
think  I  had  robbed  her,  and  would  have  a  right 
to  think  so.  I  swear  that  at  the  thought  I  stag 
gered,  and  since  then  I  have  always  known  how 
a  thief  must  sometimes  feel.  It  decided  me,  how 
ever.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  second  that  I 
would  never  again  buy  another  share  of  stock  on  a 
margin  as  long  as  I  lived,  and  I  wrote  telegrams 
ordering  every  broker  I  had  to  sell  me  out  and 
send  me  my  accounts,  and  I  mortgaged  my  old 
home  for  all  I  could  get.  I  figured  that  I  wanted 
just  one  hundred  dollars  more  than  I  had.  I 
walked  across  the  hall  into  Peck's  little  dark 
office.  He  was  poring  over  a  brief.  I  said, 
"Peck,  I  am  broke." 

"What?  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it — but  I  am  not  sur 
prised."    He  was  perfectly  cool,  but  did  look  sorry. 

64 


THE  METEOR 

"Peck,"  I  went  on,  "I  saw  you  pricing  a  watch 
the  other  day.  Here  is  one  I  gave  three  hundred 
dollars  for."  I  showed  him  a  fine  chronometer 
repeater  I  had  bought  in  my  flush  time. 

"I  can't  give  over  a  hundred  dollars  for  a 
watch,"  he  said. 

"How  much  will  you  give  me  for  this?" 

"You  mean  with  the  chain?" 

"Yes" — I  had  not  meant  with  the  chain,  but  I 
thought  of  old  Mrs.  Upshur. 

"I  can't  give  over  a  hundred." 

"Take  it,"  and  I  handed  it  to  him  and  he  gave 
me  a  hundred-dollar  bill,  which  I  took  with  the 
interest  and  handed,  myself,  to  my  old  lady, 
whom  I  advised  to  let  Peck  invest  for  her  on  a 
mortgage.  This  he  did,  and  I  heard  afterward 
netted  her  six  per  cent. — for  a  time. 

That  evening  I  went  to  see  Lilian  Poole.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  quickly  what  to  do.  That 
stroke  of  lightning  had  showed  me  everything  just 
as  it  was,  in  its  ghastliest  detail.  If  she  accepted 
me,  I  would  begin  to  work  in  earnest,  and  if  she 
would  wait,  as  soon  as  I  could  pay  my  debts,  I 
would  be  ready;  if  not,  then — !  However,  I 
walked  right  in  and  made  a  clean  breast  of  it, 
and  I  told  her  up  and  down  that  if  she  would 
marry  me  I  would  win.  I  shall  never  forget  the 

65 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

picture  as  she  stood  by  the  heavy  marble  mantel 
in  her  father's  rich  drawing-room,  tall  and  uncom 
promising  and  very  handsome.  She  might  have 
been  marble  herself,  like  the  mantel,  she  was  so 
cold,  and  I,  suddenly  aroused  by  the  shock,  was  on 
fire  with  resolve  and  fierce  hunger  for  sympathy. 
She  did  not  hesitate  a  moment;  and  I  walked  out. 
She  had  given  me  a  deep  wound.  I  saw  the  sun 
rise  in  the  streets. 

Within  two  weeks  I  had  made  all  my  arrange 
ments;  had  closed  up  my  affairs;  given  up  every 
thing  in  the  world  I  had;  executed  my  notes  to 
my  creditors  and  told  them  they  were  not  worth 
a  cent  unless  I  lived,  in  which  case  they  would 
be  worth  principal  and  interest;  sold  my  law 
books  to  Peck  for  a  price  which  made  his  eyes 
glisten,  had  given  him  my  office  for  the  unexpired 
term,  and  was  gone  to  the  West. 

The  night  before  I  left  I  called  to  see  the  young 
lady  again — a  piece  of  weakness.  But  I  hated  to 
give  up. 

She  looked  unusually  handsome. 

I  believe  if  she  had  said  a  word  or  had  looked 
sweet  at  me  I  might  have  stayed,  and  I  know  I 
should  have  remained  in  love  with  her.  But  she 
did  neither.  When  I  told  her  I  was  going  away, 
she  said  "Where?"  That  was  every  word — in 

66 


THE  METEOR 

just  such  a  tone  as  if  she  had  met  me  on  the 
corner,  and  I  had  said  I  was  going  to  walk. 
She  was  standing  by  the  mantel  with  her  shape 
ly  arm  resting  lightly  on  the  marble.  I  said, 
"God  only  knows,  but  somewhere  far  enough 
away." 

"When  are  you  coming  back?" 

"Never." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will,"  she  said  coolly,  arranging  a 
bracelet,  so  coolly  that  it  stung  me  like  a  serpent 
and  brought  me  on  my  feet. 

"I'll  be—!  No,  I  will  not,"  I  said.  "Good- 
by." 

"Good-by."  She  gave  me  her  hand  and  it  was 
as  cool  as  her  voice. 

"Good-by."  And  mine  was  as  cold  as  if  I  were 
dead.  I  swear,  I  believe  sometimes  I  did  die 
right  there  before  her  and  that  a  new  man  took 
my  place  within  me.  At  any  rate  my  love  for 
her  died,  slain  by  the  ice  in  her  heart;  and  the 
foolish  fribble  I  was  passed  into  a  man  of  res 
olution. 

As  I  walked  out  of  her  gate,  I  met  Peck  going 
in,  and  I  did  not  care.  I  did  not  even  hate  him. 
I  remember  that  his  collar  was  up  to  his  ears.  I 
heard  afterward  that  she  accepted  him  that  same 
week.  For  some  inexplicable  reason  I  thought  of 

67 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

John  Marvel  as  I  walked  home.    I  suddenly  ap 
peared  nearer  to  him  than  I  had  done  since  I  left 
college,  and  I  regretted  not  having  answered  his 
simple,  affectionate  letters. 
I  started  West  that  night. 


VII 

THE   HEGIRA 

TN  my  manage  was  a  bull-terrier  puppy — brin- 
*  died,  bow-legged,  and  bold — at  least,  Jeams 
declared  Dix  to  be  a  bull  pup  of  purest  blood 
when  he  sold  him  to  me  for  five  dollars  and  a  suit 
of  clothes  that  had  cost  sixty.  I  found  later  that 
he  had  given  a  quarter  for  him  to  a  negro  stable- 
boy  who  had  been  sent  to  dispose  of  him.  Like 
the  American  people  he  was  of  many  strains; 
but,  like  the  American  people,  he  proved  to  have 
good  stuff  in  him,  and  he  had  the  soul  of  a  lion. 
One  eye  was  bleared,  a  memento  of  some  early  and 
indiscreet  insolence  to  some  decisive-clawed  cat; 
his  ears  had  been  crookedly  clipped  and  one  perked 
out,  the  other  in,  and  his  tail  had  been  badly 
bobbed;  but  was  as  expressive  as  the  immortal 
Rab's  eloquent  stump.  He  feared  and  followed 
Jeams,  but  he  adored  me.  And  to  be  adored  by 
woman  or  dog  is  something  for  any  man  to  show 
at  the  last  day.  To  lie  and  blink  at  me  by  the 
hour  was  his  chief  occupation.  To  crawl  up  and 

69 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

lick  my  hand,  or  failing  that,  my  boot,  was  his 
heaven. 

I  always  felt  that,  with  all  my  faults,  which  none 
knew  like  myself,  there  must  be  some  basic  good 
in  me  to  inspire  so  devoted  a  love. 

When  I  determined  to  leave  for  the  West  the 
night  of  my  final  break  with  Lilian  Poole,  in  my 
selfishness  I  forgot  Dix ;  but  when  I  reached  home 
that  night,  sobered  and  solitary,  there  was  Dix 
with  his  earnest,  adoring  gaze,  his  shrewd  eye 
fixed  on  me,  and  his  friendly  twist  of  the  back. 
His  joy  at  my  mere  presence  consoled  me  and  gave 
me  spirit,  though  it  did  not  affect  my  decision. 

Jeams,  who  had  followed  me  from  college,  at 
times  hung  around  my  office,  carried  Miss  Poole 
my  notes  and  flowers  and,  in  the  hour  of  my 
prosperity,  blossomed  out  in  a  gorgeousness  of 
apparel  that  partly  accounted  for  my  heavy 
expense  account,  as  well  as  for  the  rapid  disap 
pearance  of  the  little  private  stock  I  occasionally 
kept  or  tried  to  keep  in  a  deceptive-looking  desk 
which  I  used  as  a  sideboard  for  myself  and  friends. 
He  usually  wore  an  old  suit  of  mine,  in  which  he 
looked  surprisingly  well,  but  on  occasions  he  wore 
a  long-tailed  coat,  a  red  necktie,  and  a  large  soft, 
light  hat  which,  cocked  on  the  side  of  his  head, 
gave  him  the  air  of  an  Indian  potentate.  I  think 

70 


THE  HEGIRA 

he  considered  himself  in  some  sort  a  partner.  He 
always  referred  to  me  and  my  business  as  "us" 
and  "our"  business,  and,  on  some  one's  asking 
him  derisively  if  he  were  a  partner  of  mine,  he 
replied,  "Oh,  no,  sir,  only  what  you  might  term  a 
minor  connectee  of  the  Captain."  He  was,  how 
ever,  a  very  useful  fellow,  being  ready  to  do  any 
thing  in  the  world  I  ordered,  except  when  he  was 
tight  or  had  some  piece  of  rascality  on  foot — 
occasions  by  no  means  rare.  He  wore,  at  election 
time,  a  large  and  flaming  badge  announcing  that 
he  was  something  in  his  party — the  opposite 
party  to  mine;  but  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
when  I  was  in  politics  he  perjured  himself  freely 
and  committed  other  crimes  against  the  purity  of 
the  ballot  on  which  economists  declare  all  Repre 
sentative  Government  is  founded.  One  of  my  ar 
dent  friends  once  informed  me  that  he  thought  I 
ought  not  to  allow  Jeams  to  wear  that  badge — it 
was  insulting  me  openly.  I  told  him  that  he  was 
a  fool,  that  I  was  so  afraid  Jeams  would  insist 
on  my  wearing  one,  too,  I  was  quite  willing  to 
compromise.  In  fact,  I  had  gotten  rather  de 
pendent  on  him.  Then  he  and  I  held  such  iden 
tical  views  as  to  Peck,  not  to  mention  some  other 
mutual  acquaintances,  and  Jeams  could  show  his 
contempt  in  such  delightfully  insolent  ways. 

71 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  had  intimated  to  Jeams  some  time  before,  im 
mediately  after  my  first  serious  reverse  in  the 
stock  market,  that  I  was  no  longer  as  flush  as  I 
had  been,  and  that  unless  affairs  looked  up  I 
might  move  on  to  fresh  pastures — or,  possibly, 
I  put  it,  to  a  wider  field  for  the  exercise  of  my 
powers;  whereupon  he  promptly  indicated  his  in 
tention  to  accompany  me  and  share  my  fortune. 
But  I  must  say,  he  showed  plainly  his  belief  that 
it  was  a  richer  pasture  which  I  was  contemplating 
moving  into,  and  he  viewed  the  prospect  with  a 
satisfaction  much  like  that  of  a  cat  which,  in  the 
act  of  lapping  milk,  has  cream  set  before  it.  The 
only  thing  that  puzzled  him  was  that  he  could  not 
understand  why  I  wanted  more  than  I  had.  He 
said  so  plainly. 

"  What  you  want  to  go  'way  for,  Cap'n?  Whyn't 
you  stay  where  you  is  ?  You  done  beat  'em  all— 
evy  one  of  'em— 

"Oh!  no,  I  haven't." 

"Go  'way  f'om  here — you  is  an'  you  know  you 
is — dthat's  the  reason  you  carry  yo'  head  so  high." 
(He  little  knew  the  true  reason.)  "An'  if  you 
hadn't,  all  you  got  to  do  is  to  walk  in  yonder — up 
yonder  "(with  a  toss  of  his  head  in  the  direction  of 
Miss  Poole's  home),  "an'  hang  up  yo'  hat,  and  den 
you  ain'gotnuthin'  to  do  but  jus'  write  yo'  checks." 

72 


THE  HEGIRA 

I  laughed  at  Jeams's  idea  of  the  situation,  and 
of  old  Poole's  son-in-law's  position.  But  it  was 
rather  a  bitterer  laugh  than  he  suspected.  To 
soothe  my  conscience  and  also  to  draw  him  out,  I 
said,  though  I  did  not  then  really  think  it  possible : 

"Why,  she's  going  to  marry  Peck." 

Jeams  turned  around  and  actually  spat  out  his 
disgust. 

' '  What,  dthat  man ! "  Then,  as  he  looked  at  me 
to  assure  himself  that  I  was  jesting,  and  finding 
a  shade  less  amusement  in  my  countenance  than 
he  had  expected,  he  uttered  a  wise  speech. 

"Well,  I  tell  you,  Cap'n — if  dthat  man  gits  her 
he  ought  to  have  her,  'cause  he  done  win  her  an' 
you  ain'  know  how  to  play  de  game.  You  done 
discard  de  wrong  card." 

I  acknowledged  in  my  heart  that  he  had  hit  the 
mark,  and  I  laughed  a  little  less  bitterly,  which 
he  felt — as  did  Dix,  lying  against  my  foot  which 
he  suddenly  licked  twice. 

"An'  I'll  tell  you  another  thing — you's  well  rid 
of  her.  Ef  she  likes  dthat  man  bes',  let  him  have 
her,  and  you  git  another  one.  Der's  plenty  mo', 
jes'  as  good  and  better,  too,  and  you'll  meek  her 
sorry  some  day.  Dthat's  de  way  I  does.  If  dey 
wants  somebody  else,  I  let's  'em  have  'em.  It's 
better  to  let  'em  have  'em  befo'  than  after." 

73 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

When  Jeams  walked  out  of  my  room,  he  had  on 
a  suit  which  I  had  not  had  three  months,  and  a 
better  suit  than  I  was  able  to  buy  again  in  as  many 
years.  But  he  had  paid  me  well  for  it.  I  had  in 
mind  his  wise  saying  when  I  faced  Lilian  Poole 
without  a  cent  on  earth,  with  all  gone  except  my 
new-born  resolution  and  offered  her  only  myself, 
and  as  I  walked  out  of  her  gate  I  consoled  myself 
with  Jeams's  wisdom. 

When  I  left  Miss  Poole  I  walked  straight  home, 
and  having  let  nobody  know,  I  spent  the  evening 
packing  up  and  destroying  old  letters  and  papers 
and  odds  and  ends;  among  them,  all  of  Lilian 
Poole's  letters  and  other  trash.  At  first,  I  found 
myself  tending  to  reading  over  and  keeping  a  few 
letters  and  knickknacks;  but  as  I  glanced  over 
the  letters  and  found  how  stiff,  measured,  and 
vacant  her  letters  were  as  compared  with  my 
burning  epistles,  in  which  I  had  poured  out  my 
heart,  my  wrath  rose,  and  I  consigned  them  all 
to  the  flames,  whose  heat  was  the  only  warmth 
they  had  ever  known. 

I  was  in  the  midst  of  this  sombre  occupation, 
with  no  companion  but  my  angry  reflections  and 
no  witness  but  Dix,  who  was  plainly  aware  that 
something  unusual  was  going  on,  and  showed  his 
intense  anxiety  in  the  only  method  that  dull 

74 


THE  HEGIRA 

humanity  has  yet  learned  to  catalogue  as  Dog- 
talk:  by  moving  around,  wagging  his  stump  of  a 
twist-tail,  and  making  odd,  uneasy  sounds  and 
movements.  His  evident  anxiety  about  me  pres 
ently  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  began  to  think 
what  I  should  do  with  him.  I  knew  old  Mrs. 
Upshur  would  take  and  care  for  him  as  she  would 
for  anything  of  mine;  but  Dix,  though  the  best 
tempered  of  canines,  had  his  standards,  which  he 
lived  up  to  like  a  gentleman,  and  he  brooked  no 
insolence  from  his  inferiors  or  equals  and  admitted 
no  superiors.  Moreover,  he  needed  out-door  exer 
cise  as  all  sound  creatures  do,  and  this  poor,  old 
decrepit  Mrs.  Upshur  could  not  give  him.  I  dis 
carded  for  one  reason  or  another  my  many  ac 
quaintances,  and  gradually  Jeams  took  precedence 
in  my  mind  and  held  it  against  all  reasoning.  He 
was  drunken  and  worthless — he  would  possibly, 
at  times,  neglect  Dix,  and  at  others,  would 
certainly  testify  his  pride  in  him  and  prove  his 
confidence  by  making  him  fight;  but  he  adored  the 
dog  and  he  feared  me  somewhat.  As  I  wavered 
there  was  a  knock  and  Jeams  walked  in.  He  was 
dressed  in  my  long  frock  coat  and  his  large,  gray 
hat  was  on  the  back  of  his  head — a  sure  sign  that 
he  was  tight,  even  had  not  his  dishevelled  collar 
and  necktie  and  his  perspiring  countenance  given 

75 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

evidence  of  his  condition.  As  he  stood  in  the 
door,  his  hand  went  up  to  his  hat;  but  at  sight  of 
the  room,  he  dropped  it  before  he  could  reach 
the  hat  and  simply  stared  at  me  in  blank  amaze 
ment. 

"Hi!    What  you  doin'?"  he  stammered. 

"Packing  up." 

"Where  you  goin'?" 

"Going  away." 

"When  you  comin'  back?" 

"Never." 

"What!  Well,  damned  if  I  ain'  gwine  wid  you, 
then." 

The  tone  was  so  sincere  and  he  was  evidently 
so  much  in  earnest  that  a  lump  sprang  into  my 
throat.  I  turned  away  to  keep  him  from  seeing 
that  I  was  moved,  and  it  was  to  keep  him  still 
from  finding  it  out  that  I  turned  on  him  with  well- 
feigned  savageness  as  he  entered  the  room. 

"You  look  like  going  with  me,  don't  you!  You 
drunken  scoundrel!  Take  your  hat  off,  sir" — for 
in  his  confusion  he  had  wholly  forgotten  his  man 
ners.  They  now  came  back  to  him. 

"Ixcuse  me — Cap'n"  (with  a  low  bow).  "Ix- 
cuse  me,  suh.  I  al'ays  removes  my  hat  in  the 
presence  of  the  ladies  and  sech  distinguished 

gent'mens  as  yourself,  suh;  but,  Cap'n ' 

76 


"Hi!    What  you  doin'?"  he  stammered. 


THE  HEGIRA     . 

"Drunken  rascal!"  I  muttered,  still  to  hide  my 
feeling. 

"Cap'n — I  ain'  drunk — I'll  swear  I  ain'  had  a 
drink  not  in—  He  paused  for  an  appropriate 
term  and  gave  it  up.  " — Not  in — I'll  swear  on  a 
stack  of  Bibles  as — as  high  as  Gen'l  Washin's 
monument — you  bring  it  heah — is  you  got  a 
Bible?  You  smell  my  breath!" 

" Smell  your  breath!  I  can't  smell  anything 
but  your  breath.  Open  that  window!" 

"Yes,  suh,"  and  the  window  was  meanderingly 
approached,  but  not  reached,  for  he  staggered 
slightly  and  caught  on  a  chair. 

"Cap'n,  I  ain'  had  a  drink  for  a  year — I'll  swear 
to  dthat.  I'll  prove  it  to  you.  I  ain'  had  a  cent 
to  buy  one  wid  in  a  month — I  was  jus'  comin'  roun1 
to  ast  you  to  gi'  me  one — jus'  to  git  de  dust  out  o' 
my  throat." 

"Dust!  Clean  those  things  up  there  and  get 
some  dust  in  your  throat." 

"Yes,  suh — yes,  suh — Cap'n" — insinuatingly, 
as  his  eye  fell  on  Dix,  who  was  standing  looking 
attentively  first  at  me  and  then  at  Jeams,  com 
pletely  mystified  by  my  tone,  but  ready  to  take  a 
hand  if  there  was  anyneed  for  him.  "Cap'n " 

"Well,  what  is  it?    What  do  you  want  now?" 

"Will  you  lend  me  a  hundred?" 

77 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"A  hundred  dollars?" 

"Yes,  suh — you  see— 

"No.  I'll  give  you  a  hundred  licks  if  you  don't 
get  to  work  and  clean  up  that  floor." 

"Cap'n — yes,  suh — I'm  gwine  to  clean  't  up— 
but,  Cap'n " 

"Well?" 

"I'll  let  you  in — jes'  len'  me  ten — or  five — or 
jes'  one  dollar — hit's  a  cinch — Lord !  I  can  meek 
ten  for  one  jist  as  easy — dee  don'  know  him — dee 
think  he  ain'  nuthing  but  a  cur  dawg — dat's  what 
I  told  'em.  And  I'll  meek  you  all  de  money  in  the 
worP— I  will  dat." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?" 

"Well,  you  see,  hit's  dthis  away — I  wouldn't 
bother  you  if  dat  yaller  bar-keeper  nigger  hadn' 

clean  me  up  wid  them  d d  loaded  bones  of  hisn 

— jis'  stole  it  from  me — yes,  suh — jis' — 

"Cleaned  you  up?    When?" 

"Dthis  very  evenin' — I  had  seventeen  dollars 
right  in  my  pocket,  heah.  You  ax  Mr.  Wills  if 
I  didn't.  He  seen  me  have  it — I  had  jes'  got  it, 
too- 

"You  liar — you  just  now  told  me  you  hadn't 
had  a  cent  in  a  month,  and  now  you  say  you  had 
seventeen  dollars  this  evening."  Jeams  reared 
himself  up. 

78 


THE  HEGIRA 

"I  toll  you  dthat?"  He  was  now  steadying 
himself  with  great  gravity  and  trying  to  keep  his 
eyes  fixed  on  me. 

"Yes." 

"No,  sir.  I  never  toll  you  dthat  in  this  worF! 
'Cause  'twould  a  been  a  lie — and  I  wouldn'  tell  you 
a  lie  for  nuthin'  on  earth — I  never  had  no  seven 
teen  dollars." 

"I  know  you  didn't — I  know  that's  true,  unless 
you  stole  it;  but  you  said— 

"No,  sir — what  I  said  was — dthat  if  you'd  len' 
me  seventeen  dollars  I'd  take  Dix  there  and  kill 
any  dawg  dthat  yaller  nigger  up  yonder  in  the 
Raleigh  Hotel  could  trot  out — I  didn'  keer  what 
he  was — and  I  said  I'd — give  you  a  hundred 
dollars  out  of  the  skads  I  picked  up — dthat's 
what  I  said,  and  you  got  it  wrong." 

"You'll  do  what?" 

"You  see,  hit's  this  away — dthat  big-moufed, 
corn-fed  yaller  nigger — he  was  allowin'  dthat  Mr. 
Mulligan  had  a  dawg  could  chaw  up  any  dawg 
dis  side  o'  torment,  and  I  'lowed  him  a  ten  dthat 

I  had  one  's  could  lick  h 1  out  o'  any  Mulligan 

or  Mulligan's  dawg  top  o'  groun' — V  dthat  you'd 
len'  me  th'  ten  to  put  up." 

"Well,  you've  lost  one  ten  anyway — I  won't 
lend  you  a  cent,  and  if  I  catch  you  fighting  Dix,  I'll 

79 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

give  you  the  worst  lambing  you  ever  had  since 
Justice  John  had  you  skinned  for  stealing  those 
chickens." 

Jeams  threw  up  his  eyes  in  reprobation. 

"Now,  Cap'n — you  know  I  never  stole  dem 
stags — dthat  old  jestice  he  jes'  sentenced  me  'cause 
you  was  my  counsel  an'  cause '  I  was  a  nigger  an' 
had'n  had  a  chance  at  me  befo' — I  bet  if  I'd  give' 
him  half  de  money  'stead  o'  payin'  you,  he'd  a'  let 
me  off  mighty  quick." 

"Pay  me!  you  never  paid  me  a  cent  in  your 
life."  ' 

"Well,  I  promised  to  pay  you,  didn'  I?  An' 
ain'  dthat  de  same  thin'?" 

"Not  by  a  big  sight " 

"  Dthat 's  de  way  gent'mens  does." 

"Oh!  do  they?" 

Jeams  came  back  to  the  main  theme. 

"Mr.  Hen,  ain'  you  gwine  let  me  have  dem  ten 
dollars,  sho'  'nough?  Hit's  jes'  like  pickin'  money 
up  in  de  road:  Dix  kin  kill  dat  dawg  befo'  you 
ken  say  Jack  Roberson." 

"Jeams,"  I  said,  "look  at  me!" 

"Yes,  suh,  I'm  lookin',"  and  he  was. 

"I  am  going  away  to-night— 

"Well,  I'm  gwine  width  you,  I  ain'  gwine  stay 
heah  by  myself  after  you  and  Dix  is  gone." 

80 


THE  HEGIRA 

"No,  you  can't  do  that.  I  don't  know  yet 
exactly  where  I  am  going,  I  have  not  yet  decided. 
I  am  going  West — to  a  big  city." 

"Dthat's  where  I  want  to  go — "  interrupted 
Jeams. 

"And  when  I  get  settled  I'll  send  for  Dix — I'm 
going  to  leave  him  with  you." 

"Yes,  suh,  I'll  teck  keer  of  him  sure.  I'll 
match  him  against  any  dawg  in  dthis  town — he 
can  kill  dthat  dawg  of  dthat  yaller  nigger's " 

"No,  if  you  put  him  in  a  fight,  I'll  kill  you  the 
first  time  I  see  you — d'you  hear?  " 

"Yes,  suh — I  ain'  gwine  put  him  in  no  fight. 
But  ef  he  gits  in  a  fight — you  know  he's  a  mighty 
high-spirited  dawg — he  don'  like  dawgs  to  come 
nosin'  roun'  him.  Hit  sort  o'  aggravates  him. 
An' ef  he  should ?" 

"I'll  whip  you  as  sure  as  you  live " 

"Jes'ef  he  should?" 

"Yes— if  you  let  him." 

"No,  suh,  I  ain'  gwine  let  him.  You  lef  him 
wid  me." 

And  though  I  knew  that  he  was  lying,  I  was 
content  to  leave  the  dog  with  him;  for  I  was 
obliged  to  leave  him  with  some  one,  and  I  knew  he 
loved  this  dog,  and  hoped  my  threat  would,  at  least, 
keep  him  from  anything  that  might  hurt  him. 

81 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  drifted  out  to  the  Club  later  and  casually 
dropped  the  information  that  I  was  going  away. 
I  do  not  think  it  made  much  impression  on  my 
friends  there — in  fact,  I  hardly  think  they  took 
the  information  seriously.  They  were  a  kindly 
lot,  but  took  life  and  me  lightly. 

When  I  left  town  at  midnight  the  rain  was 
pouring  down,  and  there  was  no  one  at  the  dreary 
station  to  see  me  off  but  Jeams  and  Dix,  and  as 
the  train  pulled  out  I  stood  on  the  platform  to  say 
good-by  to  Jeams,  who  was  waving  his  right  hand 
sadly,  while  with  the  other  he  gripped  the  collar 
of  the  dejected  Dix  who,  with  his  eyes  on  me, 
struggled  spasmodically  and  viciously. 

Suddenly  Dix  turned  on  his  captor  with  a  snarl 
and  snap  which  startled  Jeams  so  that  he  let  him 
go,  then  whirling  about,  he  tore  after  the  train, 
which  was  just  beginning  to  quicken  its  speed. 
He  had  to  rush  over  ties  and  switch-rods,  but  he 
caught  up  and  made  a  spring  for  the  step.  He 
made  good  his  footing,  but  Jeams  was  running 
and  waving  wildly  and,  with  his  voice  in  my  ears, 
I  pushed  the  dog  off  with  my  foot  and  saw  him 
roll  over  between  the  tracks.  Nothing  daunted, 
however,  he  picked  himself  up,  and  with  another 
rush  sprang  again  for  the  step.  This  time  only 
his  forefeet  caught  and  he  hung  on  by  them  for 

82 


THE  HEGIRA 

a  second,  then  began  to  slip — inch  by  inch  he  was 
slipping  off  as  I  stood  watching  him,  when,  under 
an  impulse,  fearing  that  he  might  be  killed,  I 
hastily,  and  with  a  sudden  something  in  my 
throat,  reached  down  and  caught  him  just  in  time 
to  pull  him  up,  and  taking  him  in  my  arms  I  bore 
him  into  the  car.  I  confess  that,  as  I  felt  him 
licking  my  hands,  a  warmer  feeling  than  I  had  had 
for  some  time  came  around  my  heart,  which  had 
been  like  a  lump  of  ice  during  these  last  days,  and 
I  was  glad  no  one  was  near  by  who  knew  me.  I 
made  up  my  mind  that,  come  what  might,  I  would 
hold  on  to  my  one  faithful  friend. 


83 


VIII 

PADAN-ARAM 

T  FIRST  went  to  the  town  in  which  lived  the  rel- 
ative,  the  cousin  of  my  father's  whom  I  have 
mentioned.  It  was  a  bustling,  busy  city  and  he 
was  reputed  the  head  of  the  Bar  in  his  State — a 
man  of  large  interests  and  influence.  I  knew  my 
father's  regard  for  him.  I  think  it  was  this  and 
his  promise  about  me  that  made  me  go  to  him 
now.  I  thought  he  might  help  me,  at  least  with 
advice;  for  I  had  his  name. 

I  left  my  trunk  and  Dix  at  the  hotel  and  called 
on  him  at  his  large  office.  In  my  loneliness,  I 
was  full  of  a  new-born  feeling  of  affection  for  this 
sole  kinsman.  I  thought,  perhaps,  he  might  possi 
bly  even  make  me  an  offer  to  remain  with  him  and 
eventually  succeed  to  his  practice.  I  had  not  seen 
him  two  seconds,  however,  before  I  knew  this  was 
folly.  When  I  had  sent  in  my  name  by  an  ob 
trusive  eyed  office-boy  I  was  kept  waiting  for 
some  time  in  the  outer  office,  where  the  office-boy 
loudly  munched  an  apple,  and  a  couple  of  clerks 
whispered  to  each  other  with  their  eyes  on  the 

84 


PADAN-ARAM 

private  office  door.  And  when  I  was  ushered  in 
he  gave  me  a  single  keen  look  as  I  entered,  and 
went  on  writing  without  asking  me  to  sit  down, 
and  I  would  not  sit  without  an  invitation.  When 
he  had  finished  he  looked  up,  and  nodded  his  head 
with  a  sort  of  jerk  toward  a  chair.  He  was  a  large 
man  with  a  large  head,  short  gray  hair,  a  strong 
nose,  a  heavy  chin,  and  gray  eyes  close  together, 
without  the  kindliness  either  of  age  or  of  youth. 
I  took  a  step  toward  him  and  in  some  embar 
rassment  began  to  speak  rapidly.  I  called  him 
"Cousin,"  for  blood  had  always  counted  for  a 
great  deal  with  us,  and  I  had  often  heard  my 
father  speak  of  him  with  pride.  But  his  sharp 
look  stopped  me. 

"Take  a  seat,"  he  said,  more  in  a  tone  of  com 
mand  than  of  invitation,  and  called  me  "Mister." 
It  was  like  plunging  me  into  a  colder  atmosphere. 
I  did  not  sit  down,  but  I  was  so  far  into  my  sen 
tence  I  could  not  well  stop.  So  I  went  on  and 
asked  him  what  he  thought  of  my  settling  there, 
growing  more  and  more  embarrassed  and  hot  with 
every  word. 

"Have  you  any  money?"  he  asked  shortly. 

"Not  a  cent." 

"Well,  I  have  none  to  lend  you.  You  need  not 
count  on  me.  I  would  advise — "  But  I  did  not 

85 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

wait  for  him  to  finish.  I  had  got  hold  of  myself 
and  was  self-possessed  enough  now. 

"I  did  not  ask  you  to  lend  me  any  money, 
either,"  I  said,  straightening  myself  up.  "I  did 
ask  you  to  give  me  some  advice;  but  now  I  do  not 

want  that  or  anything  else  you  have,  d n  you ! 

I  made  a  mistake  in  coming  to  you,  for  I  am  abun 
dantly  able  to  take  care  of  myself." 

Of  course,  I  know  now  that  he  had  something  on 
his  side.  He  supposed  me  a  weak,  worthless  dog, 
if  not  a  "  dead-beat."  But  I  was  so  angry  with 
him  I  could  not  help  saying  what  I  did.  I  stalked 
out  and  slammed  the  door  behind  me  with  a  bang 
that  made  the  glass  in  the  sash  rattle;  and  the 
two  or  three  young  men,  busy  in  the  outer  office, 
looked  up  in  wonder.  I  went  straight  to  the 
hotel  and  took  the  train  to  the  biggest  city  my 
money  would  get  me  to.  I  thought  a  big  city 
offered  the  best  chances  for  me,  and,  at  least, 
would  hide  me.  I  think  the  fact  that  I  had  once 
written  a  brief  for  Mr.  Poole  in  the  matter  of  his 
interest  in  car  lines  there  influenced  me  in  my 
selection. 

I  travelled  that  night  and  the  next  day  and  the 
night  following,  and  partly  because  my  money 
was  running  low  and  partly  on  Dix's  account,  I 
rode  in  a  day-coach.  The  first  night  and  day 

86 


PADAN-ARAM 

passed  well  enough,  but  the  second  night  I  was 
tired  and  dusty  and  lonely. 

On  the  train  that  night  I  spent  some  serious 
hours.  Disappointment  is  the  mother  of  depres 
sion  and  the  grandmother  of  reflection.  I  took 
stock  of  myself  and  tried  to  peer  into  the  dim 
and  misty  future,  and  it  was  gloomy  work.  Only 
one  who  has  started  out  with  the  world  in  fee, 
and  after  throwing  it  away  in  sheer  recklessness 
of  folly,  suddenly  hauls  up  to  find  himself  bank 
rupt  of  all  he  had  spurned  in  his  pride:  a 
homeless  and  friendless  wanderer  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  may  imagine  what  I  went  through.  I 
learned  that  night  what  the  exile  feels;  I  dimly 
felt  what  the  outcast  experiences.  And  I  was 
sensible  that  I  had  brought  it  all  on  myself. 
I  had  wantonly  wasted  all  my  substance  in  riot 
ous  living  and  I  had  no  father  to  return  to — 
nothing,  not  even  swine  to  keep  in  a  strange 
land.  I  faced  myself  on  the  train  that  night, 
and  the  effigy  I  gazed  on  I  admitted  to  be  a  fool. 

The  train,  stuffy  and  hot,  lagged  and  jolted  and 
stopped,  and  still  I  was  conscious  of  only  that 
soul-shifting  process  of  self-facing.  The  image  of 
Peck,  the  tortoise,  haunted  me.  At  times  I  dozed 
or  even  slept  very  soundly;  though  doubled  up 
like  a  jack-knife,  as  I  was,  I  could  not  efface  my- 

87 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

self  even  in  my  sleep.  But  when  I  waked,  there 
was  still  myself — grim,  lonely,  homeless — haunt 
ing  me  like  a  stabbed  corpse  chained  to  my  side. 

I  was  recalled  to  myself  at  last  by  the  whimper 
ing  of  children  packed  in  a  seat  across  the  aisle 
from  me.  They  had  all  piled  in  together  the  first 
night  somewhere  with  much  excitement.  They 
were  now  hungry  and  frowzy  and  wretched. 
There  were  five  of  them,  red-cheeked  and  dirty; 
complaining  to  their  mother  who,  worn  and  be 
draggled  herself,  yet  never  lost  patience  with  one 
or  raised  her  voice  above  the  soothing  pitch  in  all 
her  consoling. 

At  first  I  was  annoyed  by  them;  then  I  was 
amused;  then  I  wondered  at  her,  and  at  last,  I 
almost  envied  her,  so  lonely  was  I  and  so  content 
was  she  with  her  little  brood. 

Hitched  on  to  the  train  the  second  night  was  a 
private  car,  said  to  be  that  of  some  one  connected 
with  a  vice-president  of  the  road.  The  name  of 
the  official,  which  I  learned  later,  was  the  same  as 
that  of  an  old  college  friend  of  my  father's,  and  I 
had  often  heard  my  father  mention  him  as  his 
successful  rival  with  his  first  sweetheart,  and  he 
used  to  tease  my  mother  by  recalling  the  charms 
of  Kitty  MacKenzie,  the  young  lady  in  question, 
whose  red  golden  hair  he  declared  the  most  beauti- 

88 


PADAN-ARAM 

ful  hair  that  ever  crowned  a  mortal  head — while 
my  mother,  I  remember,  insisted  that  her  hair 
was  merely  carroty,  and  that  her  beauty,  though 
undeniable,  was  distinctly  of  the  milkmaid  order 
— a  shaft  which  was  well  aimed,  for  my  mother's 
beauty  was  of  the  delicate,  aristocratic  type.  The 
fact  was  that  Mr.  Leigh  had  been  a  suitor  of  hers 
before  my  father  met  her,  and  having  been  dis 
carded  by  her,  had  consoled  himself  with  the 
pretty  girl,  to  whom  my  father  had  been  attentive 
before  he  met  and  fell  "head  over  heels  in  love" 
with  a  new  star  at  a  college  ball. 

Mr.  Leigh,  I  knew,  had  gone  West,  and  grown 
up  to  be  a  banker,  and  I  wondered  vaguely  if  by 
any  chance  he  could  be  the  same  person. 

The  train  should  have  reached  my  destination  in 
time  for  breakfast,  and  we  had  all  looked  forward 
to  it  and  made  our  arrangements  accordingly. 
The  engine,  however,  which  had  been  put  on 
somewhere  during  the  night,  had  " given  out," 
and  we  were  not  only  some  hours  late,  but  were  no 
longer  able  to  keep  steadily  even  the  snail's  pace 
at  which  we  had  been  crawling  all  night.  The 
final  stop  came  on  a  long  upgrade  in  a  stretch  of 
broken  country  sparsely  settled,  and  though  once 
heavily  wooded,  now  almost  denuded.  Here  the 
engine,  after  a  last  futile,  gasping  effort,  finally 

89 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

gave  up,  and  the  engineer  descended  for  the 
dozenth  time  to  see  "what  he  could  do  about  it." 
To  make  matters  worse,  the  water  in  our  car  had 
given  out,  and  though  we  had  been  passing  streams 
a  li ttle  before,  there  was  no  water  in  sight  where  we 
stopped.  It  soon  became  known  that  we  should 
have  to  wait  until  a  brakeman  could  walk  to  the 
nearest  telegraph  station,  miles  off,  and  have  an 
other  engine  despatched  to  our  aid  from  a  town 
thirty  or  more  miles  away.  So  long  as  there  had 
been  hope  of  keeping  on,  however  faint,  there 
had  been  measurable  content,  and  the  grumbling 
which  had  been  heard  at  intervals  all  the  latter 
part  of  the  night  had  been  sporadic  and  subdued ; 
but  now  when  the  last  hope  was  gone,  and  it  was 
known  that  we  were  at  last  "stuck"  for  good, 
there  was  an  outbreak  of  ill-humor  from  the  men, 
though  the  women  in  the  car  still  kept  silent, 
partly  subdued  by  their  dishevelled  condition  and 
partly  because  they  were  content  for  once,  while 
listening  to  the  men.  Now  and  then  a  man  who 
had  been  forward  would  come  back  into  the  car, 
and  address  some  one  present,  or  speak  to  the  en 
tire  car,  and  in  the  silence  that  fell  every  one 
listened  until  he  had  delivered  himself.  But  no 
one  had  yet  given  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the 
delay. 

90 


PADAN-ARAM 

At  last  a  man  who  sat  near  me  gave  an  ex 
planation.  "The  engine  lost  time  because  it  had 
too  heavy  a  load.  It's  a  heavy  train,  anyway, 
and  they  put  a  private  car  on  and  the  engine  could 
not  pull  it,  that's  all  that's  the  matter."  He  spoke 
with  the  finality  of  a  judge,  and  sat  back  in  his 
seat,  and  we  all  knew  that  he  had  hit  the  mark, 
and  given  the  true  cause.  Henceforward  he  was 
regarded  with  respect.  He  really  knew  things. 
I  insensibly  took  note  of  him.  He  was  a  middle- 
sized,  plain-looking  man  with  bright  eyes  and  a 
firm  mouth.  Whether  by  a  coincidence  or  not, 
just  at  that  moment  something  appeared  to  have 
given  way  in  the  car:  babies  began  to  cry;  chil 
dren  to  fret,  and  the  elders  to  fume  and  grumble. 
In  a  short  time  every  one  in  the  car  was  abusing 
the  railroad  and  its  management.  Their  incon- 
siderateness,  their  indifference  to  the  comfort  of 
their  passengers. 

"They  pay  no  more  attention  to  us  and  take  no 
more  care  of  us  than  if  we  were  so  many  cattle," 
growled  a  man.  "I  couldn't  get  a  single  berth 
last  night."  He  was  a  big,  sour-looking  fellow, 
who  wore  patent-leather  shoes  on  his  large  feet 
and  a  silk  hat,  now  much  rubbed — and  a  dirty 
silk  handkerchief  was  tucked  in  his  soiled  collar, 
and  in  his  soiled  shirt  front  showed  a  suppositi- 

91 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

tious  diamond.  He  was,  as  I  learned  later,  named 
Wringman,  and  was  a  labor-leader  of  some  note. 

"Not  as  much  as  of  cattle — for,  at  least,  they 
water  them,"  said  another;  "they  care  nothing 
about  our  comfort." 

"Unless  they  ride  in  a  Pullman,"  interjected  the 
man  near  me,  who  had  explained  the  situation. 

The  woman  with  the  five  children  suddenly 
turned.  "And  that's  true,  too,"  she  said,  with  a 
glance  of  appreciation  at  him  and  a  sudden  flash 
of  hate  at  the  big  man  with  the  diamond.  Off 
and  on  all  night  the  children  had,  between  naps, 
begged  for  water,  and  the  mother  had  trudged 
back  and  forth  with  the  patience  of  an  Egyptian 
water-carrier,  but  now  the  water  had  given  out, 
and  the  younger  ones  had  been  whimpering  be 
cause  they  were  hungry. 

I  went  forward,  and  about  the  engine,  where  I 
stood  for  a  time,  looking  on  while  we  waited,  I 
heard  further  criticism  of  the  road,  but  along  a 
different  line,  from  the  trainmen. 

"Well,  I'll  have  to  stand  it,"  said  one  of  them, 
the  engineer,  a  man  past  middle-age.  "No  more 
strikes  for  me.  That  one  on  the  C.  B.  and  B.  D. 
taught  me  a  lesson.  I  was  pretty  well  fixed  then 
— had  a  nice  house  and  lot  'most  paid  for  in  the 
Building  Company,  and  the  furniture  all  paid  for, 

92 


PADAN-ARAM 

except  a  few  instalments,  and  it  all  went.  I 
thought  we'd  'a'  starved  that  winter — and  my 
wife's  been  sick  ever  since." 

"I  know,"  said  his  friend,  "but  if  they  cut  down 
we've  got  to  fight.    I'm  willin'  to  starve  to  beat 


'em." 


"You  may  be;  but  you  ain't  got  little  children 
and  a  sick  wife." 

A  little  later  I  saw  the  flashily  dressed  man  with 
the  dirty  handkerchief  talking  to  him,  and  insist 
ing  that  they  should  fight  the  company.  "We'll 
bring  'em  to  their  knees,"  he  said,  with  many 
oaths.  The  engineer  kept  silence,  the  younger 
man  assented  warmly. 

I  went  back  to  my  car.  Presently  matters  grew 
so  bad  in  the  car  that  my  sympathies  for  the  chil 
dren  were  aroused,  and  I  determined  to  see  if  I 
could  not  ameliorate  the  conditions  somewhat.  I 
went  back  to  the  Pullman  car  to  see  if  there  was 
any  chance  of  buying  some  food,  but  the  haggard 
looking  porter  said  there  was  nothing  on  the  car. 
"They  usually  go  in  to  breakfast,"  he  explained. 
My  only  chance  would  be  the  private  car  behind. 
So,  after  I  had  been  forward  and  ascertained  that 
we  would  not  get  away  for  at  least  an  hour  more,  I 
went  back  and  offered  to  look  after  the  older  chil 
dren  of  the  little  family.  "I  am  going  to  take  my 

93 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

dog  for  a  run;  I'll  take  the  little  folks  too."  The 
mother  with  a  baby  in  her  arms  and  a  child, 
hardly  more  than  a  baby,  tugging  at  her,  looked 
unutterably  tired,  and  was  most  grateful  to  me. 
I  took  the  older  children  and  went  down  the  bank, 
and  turning  back,  began  to  pick  the  straggling 
wild  flowers  beside  the  track.  As  we  passed  the 
private  car,  the  door  opened,  and  the  cook  tossed 
a  waiterful  of  scraps  out  on  the  ground  on  which 
both  Dixie  and  the  children  threw  themselves. 
But,  though  there  was  plenty  of  bread,  it  had  all 
been  ruined  by  being  in  the  slop-water;  so  Dixie 
was  soon  left  in  undisturbed  possession. 

A  little  beyond  the  end  of  the  train  we  came  on 
a  young  girl  engaged  in  the  same  occupation  as 
ourselves.  Her  back  was  toward  us,  but  her 
figure  was  straight  and  supple,  and  her  motions 
easy  and  full  of  spring.  The  sight  of  the  young 
lady  so  fresh  and  cool,  with  the  morning  sun 
shining  on  a  thick  coil  of  shining  hair,  quite  re1 
vived  me.  I  drew  near  to  get  a  good  look  at  her 
and  also  to  be  within  shot  of  a  chance  to  speak  to 
her  should  opportunity  offer.  If  I  were  a  novelist 
trying  to  describe  her  I  should  say  that  she  was 
standing  just  at  the  foot  of  a  bank  with  a  clump 
of  green  bushes  behind  her,  her  arms  full  of  flowers 
which  she  had  gathered.  For  all  these  were  there, 

94 


PADAN-ARAM 

and  might  have  been  created  there  for  her,  so 
harmonious  were  they  with  the  fresh  young  face 
above  them  and  the  pliant  form  which  clasped 
them.  I  might  further  have  likened  her  to  Pros 
erpine  with  her  young  arms  full  of  blossoms 
from  Sicilian  meads;  for  she  resembled  her  in 
other  ways  than  in  embracing  flowers  and  breath 
ing  fragrance  as  she  stood  in  the  morning  light. 
But  truth  to  tell,  it  was  only  later  that  I  thought 
of  these.  The  first  impression  I  received,  as  it 
will  be  the  last,  was  of  her  eyes.  Dimples,  and 
snow-white  teeth;  changing  expression  where 
light  and  shadow  played,  with  every  varying  feel 
ing,  and  where  color  came  and  went  like  roses 
thrown  on  lilies,  and  lilies  on  roses,  all  came  to  me 
later  on.  But  that  was  in  another  phase.  Her 
eyes  were  what  I  saw  at  first,  and  never  since  have 
I  seen  the  morning  or  the  evening  star  swimming 
in  rosy  light  but  they  have  come  back  to  me.  I 
remember  I  wore  a  blue  suit  and  had  on  an  old 
yachting  cap,  which  I  had  gotten  once  when  on  a 
short  cruise  with  a  friend.  I  was  feeling  quite 
pleased  with  myself.  She  suddenly  turned. 

"Are  you  the  brakeman?" 

"No,  I  am  not."  I  could  scarcely  help  laugh 
ing  at  my  sudden  fall.  "But  perhaps  I  can  serve 
you?"  I  added. 

95 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Oh!  I  beg  pardon!  No,  I  thank  you.  I  only 
wanted  to  ask—  However,  it  is  nothing." 

Dix  had,  on  being  let  out,  and  satisfying  him 
self  that  I  was  coming  along,  made  a  wild  dash 
down  the  bank  and  alongside  the  train,  and  now 
on  his  return  rush,  catching  sight  of  the  young 
lady  in  her  fresh  frock,  without  waiting  for  the 
formality  of  an  introduction,  he  made  a  dash  for 
her  and  sprang  up  on  her  as  if  he  had  known  her 
all  his  life.  I  called  to  him,  but  it  was  too  late, 
and  before  I  could  stop  him,  he  was  up  telling  her 
what  after  my  first  look  at  her  I  should  have 
liked  to  tell  her  myself:  what  a  sweet  charming 
creature  we  thought  her. 

Dixie  had  no  scruples  of  false  pride  inculcated 
by  a  foolish  convention  of  so-called  society.  He 
liked  her  and  said  so,  and  she  liked  him  for  it, 
while  I  was  glad  to  shine  for  a  moment  in  the  re 
flected  glory  of  being  his  master. 

"What  a  fine  dog!"  she  exclaimed  as  she  patted 
him,  addressing  the  children,  who,  with  soiled 
clothes  and  tousled  heads,  were  gazing  at  the 
spick-and-span  apparition  in  open-mouthed  won 
der.  "How  I  envy  you  such  a  dog." 

"He  ain't  ours,  he  belongs  to  him,"  said  the 
child,  pointing  to  me,  as  I  stooped  at  a  little  dis 
tance  pretending  to  pull  blossoms  while  I  listened. 

96 


PADAN-ARAM 

"Oh!  Who  is  he?  Is  he  your  father?"  My 
face  was  averted. 

"Oh,  no.  We  don't  know  who  he  is;  he  just 
took  us  so." 

"Took  you  so?" 

"You  see,"  explained  the  next  older  one,  "our 
mother,  she's  got  the  baby  and  Janet,  and  the 
gentleman,  he  said  he  would  take  us  and  get 
some  wild  flowers,  because  we  hadn't  had  any 
breakfast,  and  that  dog—  But  the  dog  was 
forgotten  on  the  instant. 

"Have  not  had  any  breakfast!"  exclaimed  the 
young  lady  with  astonishment. 

"No;  you  see,  we  had  some  bread  last  night, 
but  that's  given  out.  She  ate  the  last  piece  last 
night—  "  (she  pointed  at  the  smallest  child)— 
"and  we  were  so  hungry;  she  cried,  and  Mamma 
cried,  and  that  gentleman— 

By  this  time  I  had  turned  and  I  now  stepped 
forward.  I  confess  that,  as  I  turned,  wrath  was 
in  my  heart,  but  at  sight  of  that  horrified  face,  in 
its  sympathy,  my  anger  died  away. 

"Oh!  and  to  think  what  I  wasted!  How  did  it 
happen?" 

"The  train  was  late  and  they  had  expected  to 
get  in  to  breakfast,  but  the  engine  gave  out,"  I 
explained. 

97 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"And  they  have  not  had  any  breakfast?" 

"No  one  on  the  train." 

"You  see,"  chimed  in  the  oldest  girl,  glad  to  be 
able  to  add  information,  "the  train's  heavy  any 
way,  and  they  put  a  private  car  on,  and  it  was 
more  than  the  engine  could  pull;  that's  all  that's 
the  matter." 

The  young  lady  turned  to  me. 

"Do  you  mean  that  our  car  has  caused  all  this 
trouble?" 

I  nodded.  "I  don't  know  about  'all,'  but  it 
helped." 

"You  poor  little  dears!"  she  said,  rushing  to 
the  children,  "come  with  me."  And,  taking  the 
youngest  child  by  the  hand,  she  hurried  to  the 
rear  steps  of  the  car,  with  the  others  close  behind, 
while  Dixie,  who  appeared  to  know  what  was  in 
store,  walked  close  beside  her  knee,  as  much  as  to 
say,  "Don't  leave  me  out." 

As  the  train  stood  on  an  embankment,  the  step 
was  too  high  for  her  to  climb  up,  so  I  offered  to 
put  the  children  up  on  the  top  step  for  her.  Then 
came  the  difficulty  of  her  getting  up  herself. 
She  called  the  porter,  but  the  door  was  shut  and 
there  was  no  answer. 

"Let  me  help  you  up,  too,"  I  said.  "Here,  you 
can  reach  the  rail,  and  step  in  my  hand  and  spring 

98 


PADAN-ARAM 

up.  I  can  help  you  perfectly  well — as  though 
you  were  mounting  a  horse/'  I  added,  seeing  her 
hesitate.  And,  without  giving  her  time  to  think, 
I  stooped  and  lifted  her  to  the  step.  As  she 
sprang  up,  the  door  opened,  and  a  portly  lady, 
richly  dressed  and  with  several  diamond  rings  on, 
came  out  on  the  platform.  She  gazed  on  the 
little  group  with  astonishment. 

' '  Why,  Eleanor,  what  is  this?    Who  are  these?  " 

"They  are  some  poor  children,  Aunt,  who  have 
had  no  breakfast,  and  I  am  going  to  give  them 
some." 

"Why,  they  can't  come  in  here,  my  dear. 
Those  dirty  little  brats  come  in  our  car!  It  is 
impossible,  my  dear." 

"Oh,  no,  it  is  not,  Aunty,"  said  the  young  girl 
with  a  laugh,  "they  have  had  no  breakfast." 

"Give  them  food,  my  dear,  if  you  please,  but  I 
beg  you  not  to  bring  them  into  this  car.  Look 
how  dirty  they  are !  Why,  they  might  give  us  all 
some  terrible  disease!" 

But  Miss  Eleanor  had  closed  her  ears  to  the 
plump  lady's  expostulations,  and  was  arranging 
with  a  surly  servant  for  something  to  eat  for  the 
children.  And  just  then  the  question  of  their  in 
vasion  of  the  car  was  settled  by  the  train's  starting. 
I  undertook  to  run  forward  alongside  the  car,  but 

99 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

seeing  an  open  ravine  ahead  spanned  by  a  trestle, 
and  that  the  train  was  quickening  its  speed,  I 
caught  Dixie  and  threw  him  up  on  the  rear  plat 
form,  and  then  swung  myself  up  after  him.  The 
rear  door  was  still  unlocked,  so  I  opened  it  to  pass 
through  the  car.  Just  inside  the  elderly  lady  was 
sitting  back  in  an  arm-chair  with  a  novel  in  her 
lap,  though  she  was  engaged  at  the  moment  in 
softly  polishing  her  nails.  She  stopped  long 
enough  to  raise  her  jewelled  lorgnette  and  take  a 
shot  at  me  through  it. 

"Are  you  the  brakeman?"  she  called. 

"No,  Madame,"  I  said  grimly,  thinking,  "Well, 
I  must  have  a  brakeman's  air  to-day." 

"Oh!  Will  you  ring  that  bell?" 

"Certainly."  I  rang  and,  passing  on,  was  met 
by  the  porter  coming  to  answer  the  bell. 

"This  is  a  private  car,"  he  said  shortly,  blocking 
my  way. 

"I  know  it."    I  looked  him  in  the  eye. 

"You  can't  go  th'oo  this  car." 

"Oh!  yes,  I  can.  I  have  got  to  go  through  it. 
Move  out  of  my  way." 

My  tone  and  manner  impressed  him  sufficiently, 
and  he  surlily  moved  aside,  muttering  to  himself; 
and  I  passed  on,  just  conscious  that  the  stout  lady 
had  posted  herself  at  the  opening  of  the  passage- 

100 


PADAN-ARAM 

way  behind,  and  had  beckoned  to  the  porter,  who 
sprang  toward  her  with  alacrity.  As  I  passed 
through  the  open  saloon,  the  young  lady  was  en 
gaged  in  supplying  my  little  charges  with  large 
plates  of  bread  and  butter,  while  a  grinning  cook, 
in  his  white  apron  and  cap,  was  bringing  a  yet 
further  supply.  She  turned  and  smiled  to  me  as 
I  passed. 

"Won't  you  have  something,  too?  It  is  a  very 
poor  apology  for  a  breakfast ;  for  we  had  finished 
and  cleared  away,  but  if " 

"These  little  tots  don't  appear  to  think  so,"  I 
said,  my  ill-humor  evaporating  under  her  smile. 

"Well,  won't  you  have  something?" 

I  declined  this  in  my  best  Chesterfieldian  man 
ner,  alleging  that  I  must  go  ahead  and  tell  their 
mother  what  a  good  fairy  they  had  found. 

"Oh!  it  is  nothing.  To  think  of  these  poor  lit 
tle  things  being  kept  without  breakfast  all  morn 
ing.  My  father  will  be  very  much  disturbed  to 
find  that  this  car  has  caused  the  delay." 

"Not  if  he  is  like  his  sister,"  I  thought  to  my 
self,  but  I  only  bowed,  and  said,  "I  will  come  back 
in  a  little  while,  and  get  them  for  their  mother." 
To  which  she  replied  that  she  would  send  them  to 
their  mother  by  the  porter,  thereby  cutting  off  a 
chance  which  I  had  promised  myself  of  possibly 

101 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

getting  another  glimpse  of  her.  But  the  sight  of 
myself  at  this  moment  in  a  mirror  hastened  my 
departure.  A  large  smudge  of  black  was  across 
my  face,  evidently  from  a  hand  of  one  of  the 
children.  The  prints  of  the  fingers  in  black  were 
plain  on  my  cheek,  while  a  broad  smear  ran  across 
my  nose.  No  wonder  they  thought  me  a  brake- 
man. 

As  I  reached  the  front  door  of  the  car  I  found  it 
locked  and  I  could  not  open  it.  At  the  same 
moment  the  porter  appeared  behind  me. 

"Ef  you'll  git  out  of  my  way,  I'll  open  it,"  he 
said  in  a  tone  so  insolent  that  my  gorge  rose. 

I  stood  aside  and,  still  muttering  to  himself,  he 
unlocked  the  door,  and  with  his  hand  on  the  knob, 
stood  aside  for  me  to  pass.  As  I  passed  I  turned 
to  look  for  Dixie,  who  was  following  me,  and  I 
caught  the  words,  "Ise  tired  o'  po'  white  folks 
and  dogs  in  my  car."  At  the  same  moment  Dixie 
passed  and  he  gave  him  a  kick,  which  drew  a  little 
yelp  of  surprise  from  him.  My  blood  suddenly 
boiled.  The  door  was  still  open  and,  quick  as 
light,  I  caught  the  porter  by  the  collar  and  with 
a  yank  jerked  him  out  on  the  platform.  The  door 
slammed  to  as  he  came,  and  I  had  him  to  myself. 
With  my  hand  still  on  his  throat  I  gave  him  a 
shake  that  made  his  teeth  rattle. 

102 


PADAN-ARAM 

"You  black  scoundrel,"  I  said  furiously.  "I 
have  a  good  mind  to  fling  you  off  this  train,  and 
break  your  neck."  The  negro's  face  was  ashy. 

"Indeed,  boss,"  he  said,  "I  didn'  mean  no  harm 
in  the  world  by  what  I  said.  If  I  had  known  you 
was  one  of  dese  gentlemens,  I'd  'a'  never  said  a 
word;  no  suh,  that  I  wouldn'.  An'  I  wouldn' 
'a'  tetched  your  dorg  for  nuthin',  no  suh." 

"Well,  I'll  teach  you  something,"  I  said.  "I'll 
teach  you  to  keep  a  civil  tongue  in  your  head,  at 
least." 

"Yes,  suh,  yes,  suh,"  he  said,  "I  always  is,  I 
always  tries  to  be,  I  just  didn'  know;  no  suh,  I 
axes  your  pardon.  I  didn'  mean  nuthin'  in  the 
worl'." 

"Now  go  in  there  and  learn  to  behave  yourself 
in  the  future,"  I  said. 

"Yes,  suh,  I  will."  And,  with  another  bow, 
and  a  side  look  at  Dix,  who  was  now  growling 
ominously,  he  let  himself  in  at  the  door  and  I 
passed  on  forward. 


103 


IX 

I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

1l\7'HEN,  a  little  later,  my  small  charges  were 
brought  back  to  their  mother  (to  whom  I 
had  explained  their  absence),  it  was  by  the  young 
lady  herself,  and  I  never  saw  a  more  graceful  pict 
ure  than  that  young  girl,  in  her  fresh  travelling 
costume,  convoying  those  children  down  the  car 
aisle.  Her  greeting  of  the  tired  mother  was  a 
refreshment,  and  a  minute  after  she  had  gone  the 
mother  offered  me  a  part  of  a  substantial  supply 
of  sandwiches  which  she  had  brought  her,  so  that 
I  found  myself  not  quite  so  much  in  sympathy  as 
before  with  the  criticism  of  the  road  that  was  now 
being  freely  bandied  about  the  car,  and  which  ap 
peared  to  have  made  all  the  passengers  as  one. 

Not  long  after  this  we  dropped  the  private  car 
at  a  station  and  proceeded  on  without  it.  We  had, 
however,  not  gone  far  when  we  stopped  and  were 
run  into  a  siding  and  again  waited,  and  after  a 
time,  a  train  whizzed  by  us — a  special  train  with 
but  two  private  cars  on  it.  It  was  going  at  a 
clipping  rate,  but  it  did  not  run  so  fast  that  we  did 

104 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

not  recognize  the  private  car  we  had  dropped  some 
way  back,  and  it  soon  became  known  through 
out  our  train  that  we  had  been  side-tracked  to 
let  a  special  with  private  cars  have  the  right  of 
way.  I  confess  that  my  gorge  rose  at  this,  and 
when  the  man  in  front  of  me  declared  that  we 
were  the  most  patient  people  on  earth  to  give 
public  franchises,  pay  for  travelling  on  trains  run 
by  virtue  of  them,  and  then  stand  being  shoved 
aside  and  inconvenienced  out  of  all  reason  to 
allow  a  lot  of  bloated  dead-heads  to  go  ahead  of 
us  in  their  special  trains,  I  chimed  in  with  him 
heartily. 

"Well,  the  road  belongs  to  them,  don't  it?" 
enquired  a  thin  man  with  a  wheezing  voice. 
"That  was  Canter's  private  train,  and  he  took  on 
the  Argand  car  at  that  station  back  there." 

"'They  own  the  road!'  How  do  they  own  it? 
How  did  they  get  it?"  demanded  the  first  speaker 
warmly. 

"Why,  you  know  how  they  got  it.  They  got  it 
in  the  panic — that  is,  they  got  the  controlling 
interest." 

"Yes,  and  then  ran  the  stock  down  till  they  had 
got  control  and  then  reorganized  and  cut  out  those 
that  wouldn't  sell — or  couldn't — the  widows  and 
orphans  and  infants — that's  the  way  they  got  it." 

105 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Well,  the  court  upheld  it." 

"Yes,  under  the  law  they  had  had  made  them 
selves  to  suit  themselves.  You  know  how  'twas! 
You  were  there  when  'twas  done  and  saw  how 
they  flung  their  money  around — or  rather  the 
Argand  money — for  I  don't  believe  Canter  and 
his  set  own  the  stock  at  all.  I'll  bet  a  thousand 
dollars  that  every  share  is  up  as  collateral  in  old 
Argand's  bank." 

"Oh!  Well,  it's  all  the  same  thing.  They 
stand  in  together.  They  run  the  bank — the  bank 
lends  money;  they  buy  the  stock  and  put  it  up 
for  the  loan,  and  then  run  the  road." 

"And  us,"  chipped  in  the  other,  for  they  had 
now  gotten  into  a  high  good-humor  with  each 
other;  "they  get  our  franchises  and  our  money, 
and  then  side-track  us  without  breakfast  while 
they  go  sailing  by — in  cars  that  they  call  theirs, 
but  which  we  pay  for.  I  do  think  we  are  the 
biggest  fools!" 

"That's  socialistic!"  said  his  friend  again. 
"You've  been  reading  that  fellow's  articles  in  the 
Sunday  papers.  What's  his  name?" 

"No,  I've  been  thinking.  I  don't  care  what  it 
is,  it's  the  truth,  and  I'm  tired  of  it." 

"They  say  he's  a  Jew,"  interrupted  the  for 
mer. 

106 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

"I  don't  care  what  he  is,  it's  the  truth/'  as 
serted  the  other  doggedly. 

"Well,  I  rather  think  it  is,"  agreed  his  friend; 
"but  then,  I'm  hungry,  and  there  isn't  even  any 
water  on  the  car." 

"And  they  guzzle  champagne!"  sneered  the 
other,  "which  we  pay  for,"  he  added. 

"You're  a  stockholder?" 

"Yes,  in  a  small  way;  but  I  might  as  well  own 
stock  in  a  paving  company  to  Hell.  My  father 
helped  to  build  this  road  and  used  to  take  great 
pride  in  it.  They  used  to  give  the  stockholders 
then  a  free  ride  once  a  year  to  the  annual  meeting, 
and  it  made  them  all  feel  as  if  they  owned  the 
road." 

"But  now  they  give  free  passes  not  to  the 
stockholders,  but  to  the  legislators  and  the  judges." 

"It  pays  better,"  said  his  friend,  and  they  both 
laughed.  It  appeared,  indeed,  rather  a  good  joke 
to  them — or,  at  least,  there  was  nothing  which 
they  could  do  about  it,  so  they  might  as  well  take 
it  good-humoredly. 

By  this  time  I  had  learned  that  my  neighbor 
with  the  five  children  was  the  wife  of  a  man 
named  McNeil,  who  was  a  journeyman  machinist, 
but  had  been  thrown  out  of  work  by  a  strike  in 
another  city,  and,  after  waiting  around  for  months, 

107 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

had  gone  North  to  find  employment,  and  having 
at  last  gotten  it,  had  now  sent  for  them  to  come  on. 
She  had  not  seen  him  for  months,  and  she  was 
looking  forward  to  it  now  with  a  happiness  that 
was  quite  touching.  Even  the  discomforts  of  the 
night  could  not  dull  her  joy  in  the  anticipation  of 
meeting  her  husband — and  she  constantly  en- 
heartened  her  droopy  little  brood  with  the  pros 
pect  of  soon  seeing  their  "dear  Daddy." 

Finally  after  midday  we  arrived. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  sight  and  smells  of  that 
station,  if  I  live  to  be  a  thousand  years  old.  It 
seemed  to  me  a  sort  of  temporary  resting-place  for 
lost  souls — and  I  was  one  of  them.  Had  Dante 
known  it,  he  must  have  pictured  it,  with  its  reek 
and  grime.  The  procession  of  tired,  bedraggled 
travellers  that  streamed  in  through  the  black 
gateways  to  meet  worn  watchers  with  wan  smiles 
on  their  tired  faces,  or  to  look  anxiously  and  in 
vain  for  friends  who  had  not  come,  or  else  who 
had  come  and  gone.  And  outside  the  roar  of  the 
grimy  current  that  swept  through  the  black  street. 

I  had  no  one  to  look  for;  so,  after  helping  my 
neighbor  and  her  frowsy  little  brood  off,  I  saun 
tered  along  with  Dix  at  my  heel,  feeling  about  as 
lonely  as  a  man  can  feel  on  this  populated  earth. 
After  gazing  about  and  refusing  sternly  to  meet 

108 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

the  eye  of  any  of  the  numerous  cabmen  who 
wildly  waved  their  whips  toward  me,  shout 
ing:  "Kebsuh — kebsuh — keb — keb — keb?"  with 
wearying  iteration,  I  had  about  made  up  my 
mind  to  take  the  least  noisy  of  them,  when  I  be 
came  conscious  that  my  fellow-traveller,  Mrs. 
McNeil  with  her  little  clan,  was  passing  out  of  the 
station  unescorted  and  was  looking  about  in  a 
sort  of  lost  way.  On  my  speaking  to  her,  her  face 
brightened  for  a  moment,  but  clouded  again  in 
stantly,  as  she  said,  "Oh!  sir,  he's  gone!  He 
came  to  meet  me  this  morning ;  but  the  train  was 
late  and  he  couldn't  wait  or  he'd  lose  his  job,  so  he 
had  to  go,  and  the  kind  man  at  the  gate  told  me 
he  left  the  message  for  me.  But  however  shall  I 
get  there  with  all  the  children,  for  I  haven't  a  cent 
left!" 

The  tears  welled  up  in  her  eyes  as  she  came 
to  her  sad  little  confession.  And  I  said,  "Oh! 
Well,  I  think  we  can  manage  it  somehow.  You 
have  his  address?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,  I  have  it  here,"  and  she  pulled  out 
an  empty  little  pocket-book  from  the  breast  of  her 
worn  frock,  and  while  she  gave  the  baby  to  the 
eldest  girl  to  hold,  tremblingly  opened  the  purse. 
In  it  was  only  a  crumpled  letter  and,  besides  this, 
a  key — these  were  all.  She  opened  the  letter  ten- 

109 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

derly  and  handed  it  to  me.  I  read  the  address 
and  fastened  it  in  my  memory. 

"Now,"  I  said,  "we'll  straighten  this  out 
directly."  I  turned  and  called  a  hackman.  "I 
want  a  carriage." 

There  was  a  rush,  but  I  was  firm  and  insisted  on 
a  hack.  However,  as  none  was  to  be  had,  I  was 
fain  to  content  myself  with  a  one-horse  cab  of 
much  greater  age  than  dimension. 

Bundling  them  in  and  directing  the  driver  to  go 
around  and  get  the  trunk  from  the  baggage-room, 
I  mounted  beside  him  and  took  Dix  between  my 
feet  and  one  of  the  children  in  my  arms,  and  thus 
made  my  entry  into  the  city  of  my  future  home. 
My  loneliness  had  somehow  disappeared. 

My  prote"geVs  destination  turned  out  to  be  a 
long  way  off,  quite  in  one  of  the  suburbs  of  the 
city,  where  working  people  had  their  little  homes 
— a  region  I  was  to  become  better  acquainted  with 
later.  As  we  began  to  pass  bakeries  and  cook- 
shops,  the  children  began  once  more  to  clamor  to 
their  mother  for  something  to  eat,  on  which  the 
poor  thing  tried  to  quiet  them  with  promises  of 
what  they  should  have  when  they  reached  home. 
But  I  could  perceive  that  her  heart  was  low  within 
her,  and  I  stopped  at  a  cook-shop  and  bought  a 
liberal  allowance  of  bread  and  jam  and  cookies,  on 

110 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

which  the  young  things  fell  to  like  famished  wolves, 
while  their  mother  overwhelmed  me  with  blessings. 

We  had  not  gone  far,  and  were  still  in  the  centre 
of  the  city,  when  a  handsome  open  carriage  drove 
by  us,  and  as  it  passed,  there  sat  in  it  the  young 
lady  I  had  seen  on  the  train,  with  a  pleasant  look 
ing  elderly  man,  whom  I  conjectured  to  be  her 
father,  and  who  appeared  in  a  very  good-humor 
with  her  or  himself.  As  I  was  gazing  at  them, 
her  eyes  fell  full  into  mine,  and  after  a  half- 
moment's  mystification,  she  recognized  me  as  I 
lifted  my  hat,  and  her  face  lit  up  with  a  pleasant 
smile  of  recognition.  I  found  my  feelings  divided 
between  pleasure  at  her  sweet  return  of  my  bow 
and  chagrin  that  she  should  find  me  hi  such  a 
predicament;  for  I  knew  what  a  ridiculous  figure 
I  must  cut  with  the  dog  between  my  feet  and  a 
frowsy  child,  thickly  smeared  with  jam,  in  my 
arms.  In  fact,  I  could  see  that  the  girl  was  talk 
ing  and  laughing  spiritedly  with  her  father,  evi 
dently  about  us.  I  confess  to  a  feeling  of  shame 
at  the  figure  I  must  cut,  and  I  wondered  if  she 
would  not  think  I  had  lied  to  her  in  saying  that  I 
had  never  met  them  before.  I  did  not  know  that 
the  smile  had  been  for  Dix. 

When  we  reached,  after  a  good  hour's  drive,  the 
little  street  for  which  we  were  bound,  I  found  my 

111 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

forecast  fairly  correct.  The  dingy  little  house,  on 
which  was  the  rusted  number  given  Mrs.  McNeil 
in  her  husband's  letter,  was  shut  up  and  bore  no 
evidence  of  having  been  opened,  except  a  small 
flower-pot  with  a  sprig  of  green  in  it  in  a  dusty, 
shutterless  window.  It  was  the  sort  of  house 
that  is  a  stove  in  summer  and  an  ice-box  in  the 
winter.  And  there  was  a  whole  street  of  them. 
After  we  had  knocked  several  times  and  I  had 
tried  to  peep  over  the  fence  at  the  end  of  the  street, 
the  door  of  an  adjoining  tenement  opened,  and  a 
slatternly,  middle-aged  woman  peeped  out. 

"Are  you  Mrs.  McNeil?"  she  asked. 

"Yes." 

"Well,  here's  your  key.  Your  man  told  me  to 
tell  you  't  if  you  came  while  he  was  at  work,  you'd 
find  something  to  eat  in  the  back  room  't  he'H 
cooked  this  mornin'  before  he  went  to  work.  The 
train  was  late,  he  said,  and  he  couldn't  wait ;  but 
he'd  be  home  to-night,  and  he'd  bring  some  coal 
when  he  came.  What  a  fine  lot  o'  children  you 
have.  They  ought  to  keep  you  in  cinders  and 
wood.  I  wish  I  had  some  as  big  as  that;  but  mine 
are  all  little.  My  two  eldest  died  of  scarlet  fever 
two  years  ago.  Drainage,  they  said." 

She  had  come  out  and  unlocked  the  door  and 
was  now  turning  away. 

112 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

"I  think  your  man  had  some  one  to  take  the  up 
stairs  front  room;  but  he  didn't  come — you'll 
have  to  get  some  one  to  do  it  and  you  double  up. 
The  Argand  Estate  charges  such  rent,  we  all  have 
to  do  that.  Well,  if  I  can  help  you,  I'm  right  here." 

I  was  struck  by  her  kindness  to  the  forlorn 
stranger,  and  the  latter's  touching  recognition  of 
it,  expressed  more  in  looks  and  in  tone  than  in 
words. 

Having  helped  them  into  the  house,  which  was 
substantially  empty,  only  one  room  having  even 
a  pretence  of  furniture  in  it,  and  that  merely  a 
bed,  a  mattress,  and  a  broken  stove,  I  gave  the 
poor  woman  a  little  of  my  slender  stock  of  money, 
and  left  her  murmuring  her  thanks  and  assurances 
that  I  had  already  done  too  much  for  them.  In 
fact,  I  had  done  nothing. 

As  my  finances  were  very  low,  I  determined  to 
find  a  boarding-house  instead  of  wasting  them  at 
a  hotel.  I  accordingly  stopped  at  a  sizable  house 
which  I  recognized  as  a  boarding-house  on  a  street 
in  a  neighborhood  which  might,  from  the  old 
houses  with  their  handsome  doors  and  windows, 
have  once  been  fashionable,  though  fashion  had 
long  since  taken  its  flight  to  a  newer  and  gaudier 
part  of  the  town,  and  the  mansions  were  now 

113 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

giving  place  to  shops  and  small  grocers'  markets. 
A  wide  door  with  a  fan-shaped  transom  gave  it 
dignity.  A  large  wistaria  vine  coiled  up  to  the 
top  o  f  a  somewhat  dilapidated  porch  with  classi 
cal  pillars  lent  it  distinction.  The  landlady,  Mrs. 
Kale,  a  pleasant-looking,  kindly  woman,  offered 
me  a  small  back  room  on  reasonable  terms,  it 
being,  as  she  said,  the  dull  season;  and,  having 
arranged  for  Dix  in  a  dingy  little  livery  stable 
near  by,  I  took  it  "  temporarily,"  till  I  could  look 
around. 

I  found  the  company  somewhat  nondescript — 
ranging  all  the  way  from  old  ladies  with  false 
fronts  and  cracked  voices  to  uppish  young  travel 
ling  men  and  their  rather  sad-looking  wives. 

Among  the  boarders,  the  two  who  interested  me 
most  were  two  elderly  ladies,  sisters,  whose  ac 
quaintance  I  made  the  day  after  my  arrival. 
They  did  not  take  their  meals  at  the  common 
table,  but,  as  I  understood,  in  their  own  apartment 
in  the  third  story.  They  were  a  quaint  and 
pathetic  pair,  very  meagre,  very  shabby,  and 
manifestly  very  poor.  There  was  an  air  of  mystery 
about  them,  and  Mrs.  Kale  treated  them  with  a 
respect  which  she  paid  to  no  others  of  her  varie 
gated  household.  They  occasionally  honored  the 
sitting-room  with  their  presence  on  Sunday  even- 

114 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

ings,  by  Mrs.  Kale's  especial  invitation,  and  I  was 
much  diverted  with  them.  They  were  known  as 
the  Miss  Tippses;  but  Mrs.  Kale  always  spoke  of 
them  as  "Miss  Pansy"  and  "Miss  Pinky."  It 
seems  that  she  had  known  them  in  her  youth, 
"back  East." 

My  acquaintance  with  the  two  old  ladies  at  this 
time  was  entirely  accidental.  The  morning  after 
my  arrival,  as  I  started  out  to  look  around  for  an 
office,  and  also  to  take  Dix  for  a  walk,  as  well  as 
to  take  a  look  at  the  city,  I  fell  in  with  two  quaint- 
looking  old  women  who  slipped  out  of  the  door 
just  ahead  of  me,  one  of  them  slightly  lame,  and 
each  with  a  large  bundle  in  her  arms.  They  were 
dressed  in  rusty  black,  and  each  wore  a  veil,  which 
quite  concealed  her  features.  But  as  they  limped 
along,  engaged  in  an  animated  conversation,  their 
voices  were  so  refined  as  to  arrest  my  attention, 
and  I  was  guilty  of  the  impropriety  of  listening 
to  them,  partly  out  of  sheer  idleness,  and  partly 
because  I  wanted  to  know  something  of  my  board 
ing-house  and  of  my  fellow  boarders.  They  were 
talking  about  a  ball  of  the  night  before,  an  account 
of  which  they  had  read  in  the  papers,  or  rather,  as 
I  learned,  in  a  copy  of  a  paper  which  they  had  bor 
rowed,  and  they  were  as  much  interested  in  it  as 
if  they  had  been  there  themselves.  ' '  Oh,  wouldn't 

115 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

you  have  liked  to  see  it?"  said  one.  "It  must 
have  been  beautiful.  I  should  have  liked  to  see 

Miss ''  (I  could  not  catch  the  name).    "She 

must  have  been  exquisite  in  chiffon  and  lace. 
She  is  so  lovely  anyhow.  I  did  not  know  she  had 
returned." 

"I  wonder  Mr. did  not  tell  us."    Again  I 

failed  to  hear  the  name. 

"For  a  very  good  reason,  I  suppose.  He  did 
not  know." 

"He  is  dead  in  love  with  her." 

"Oh,  you  are  so  romantic!"  said  the  other, 
whom  I  took  from  her  figure  and  her  feebleness 
to  be  the  elder  of  the  two. 

"No;  but  any  one  can  tell  that  at  a  glance." 

"What  a  pity  he  could  not  marry  her.  Then 
we  should  be  sure  to  see  her  as  a  bride." 

The  other  laughed.  "What  an  idea!  We  have 
nothing  fit  to  go  even  to  the  church  in." 

"Why,  we  could  go  in  the  gallery.  Oh,  this 
bundle  is  so  heavy!  I  don't  believe  I  can  ever 
get  there  to-day." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  can.  Now  come  on.  Don't  give 
up.  Here,  rest  it  on  the  fence  a  moment." 

As  the  lame  one  attempted  to  lift  the  bundle  to 
rest  it  on  the  fence,  it  slipped  to  the  ground,  and 
she  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  fear. 

116 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

"Oh,  dear!  suppose  it  should  get  soiled!" 
I  stepped  forward  and  lifted  it  for  her,  and  to 
my  surprise  found  it  very  heavy.  Then,  as  they 
thanked  me,  it  occurred  to  me  to  offer  to  carry  the 
bundle  for  them  to  the  street  car  for  which  I  sup 
posed  them  bound.  There  was  a  little  demur,  and 
I  added,  "I  am  at  Mrs.  Kale's  also.  I  have  just 
come."  This  appeared  to  relieve  one  of  them  at 
least,  but  the  other  said,  "Oh,  but  we  are  not 
to  the  street  car.  We  don't  ride  in  street 


cars." 


"Yes;  it  is  so  unhealthy,"  said  the  younger  one. 
"People  catch  all  sorts  of  diseases  on  the  car." 

Thinking  them  rather  airy,  I  was  about  to  hand 
the  bundle  back,  but  as  I  was  going  their  way  I 
offered  to  carry  the  bundles  for  both  of  them  as 
far  as  I  was  going.  This  proved  to  be  quite 
twenty  blocks,  for  I  could  not  in  decency  return 
the  bundles.  So  we  went  on  together,  I  feeling  at 
heart  rather  ashamed  to  be  lugging  two  large 
bundles  through  the  streets  for  two  very  shabby- 
looking  old  women  whose  names  I  did  not  know. 
We  soon,  however,  began  to  talk,  and  I  drew  out 
from  them  a  good  deal  about  Mrs.  Kale  and  her 
kindness.  Also,  that  they  had  seen  much  better 
days,  to  which  one  of  them  particularly  was  very 
fond  of  referring.  It  seemed  that  they  had  lived 

117 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

East — they  carefully  guarded  the  exact  place— 
and  had  once  had  interests  in  a  railroad  which 
their  father  had  built  and  largely  owned.  They 
were  manifestly  anxious  to  make  this  clearly  under 
stood.  After  his  death  they  had  lived  on  their 
dividends,  until,  on  a  sudden,  the  dividends  had 
stopped.  They  found  that  the  railroad  with 
which  their  road  connected  had  passed  into  new 
hands — had  been  " bought  up"  by  a  great  syndi 
cate,  their  lawyer  had  informed  them,  and  re 
fused  any  longer  to  make  traffic  arrangements 
with  the  road.  This  had  destroyed  the  value  of 
their  property,  but  they  had  refused  to  sell  their 
holdings  at  the  low  price  offered — "As  we  prob 
ably  ought  to  have  done,"  sighed  one  of  them. 

"Not  at  all !  I  am  glad  we  didn't,"  asserted  the 
other. 

"Well,  sister,  we  got  nothing — we  lost  every 
thing,  didn't  we?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  am  only  glad  that  we  held 
out.  That  man  knows  that  he  robbed  us." 

"Well,  that  doesn't  help  us." 

"Yes,  it  does.  It  helps  me  to  know  that  he 
knows  it." 

"Who  was  it?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  there  was  a  syndicate.  I  only  know  the 
names  of  two  of  them — a  man  named  Argand,  and 

118 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

a  man  named  Canter.  And  our  lawyer  was  named 
McSheen." 

Argand  was  a  name  which  I  recalled  in  connec 
tion  with  Mr.  Poole's  interest  in  the  railways  in 
the  case  I  have  mentioned. 

"Well,  you  held  on  to  your  stock.  You  have 
it  now,  then?"  I  foresaw  a  possible  law-case 
against  Argand,  and  wondered  if  he  was  the  owner 
of  the  Argand  Estate,  which  I  had  already  heard 
of  twice  since  my  arrival. 

"No,"  said  one  of  them,  "they  bought  up  the 
stock  of  all  the  other  people,  and  then  they  did 
something  which  cut  us  out  entirely.  What  was 
it  they  did,  sister?  " 

"Reorganized." 

"And  then  we  came  on  here  to  see  about  it,  and 
spent  everything  else  that  we  had  in  trying  to  get 
it  back,  but  we  lost  our  case.  And  since  then " 

"Well,  sister,  we  are  keeping  the  gentleman. 
Thank  you  very  much,"  said  the  younger  of  the 
two  quickly,  to  which  her  sister  added  her  thanks 
as  well.  I  insisted  at  first  on  going  further  with 
them,  but  seeing  that  they  were  evidently  anxious 
to  be  rid  of  me,  I  gave  them  their  bundles  and 
passed  on. 

Among  the  boarders  one  of  those  I  found  most 
interesting  was  a  young  man  named  Kalender, 

119 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

by  whom  I  sat  at  the  first  meal  after  my  arrival, 
and  with  whom  I  struck  up  an  acquaintance.  He 
was  a  reporter  for  a  morning  paper  of  very  ad 
vanced  methods,  and  he  was  pre-eminently  a 
person  fitted  for  his  position :  a  cocky  youth  with 
a  long,  keen  nose  and  a  bullet  head  covered  with 
rather  wiry,  black  hair,  heavy  black  brows  over 
keen  black  eyes,  and  an  ugly  mouth  with  rather 
small  yellowish  teeth.  He  had  as  absolute  con 
fidence  in  himself  as  any  youth  I  ever  met,  and  he 
either  had,  or  made  a  good  pretence  of  having,  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  not  only  all  the  public 
affairs  of  the  city,  but  of  the  private  affairs  of  every 
one  in  the  city.  Before  we  had  finished  smoking 
our  cigarettes  he  had  given  me  what  he  termed 
"the  lay  out"  of  the  entire  community,  and  by  his 
account  it  was  "the  rottenest  -  -  town  in  the 
universe" — a  view  I  subsequently  had  reason  to 
rectify — and  he  proposed  to  get  out  of  it  as  soon 
as  he  could  and  go  to  New  York,  which,  to  his 
mind,  was  the  only  town  worth  living  in  in  the 
country  (he  having,  as  I  learned  later,  lived  there 
just  three  weeks). 

His  paper,  he  said  frankly,  paid  only  for  sen 
sational  articles,  and  was  just  then  "jumping  on 
a  lot  of  the  high-flyers,  because  that  paid,"  but 
"they"  gave  him  a  latitude  to  write  up  whatever 

120 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

he  pleased,  because  they  knew  he  could  dress  up 
anything — from  a  murder  to  a  missionary  meet 
ing.  "  Oh !  it  don't  matter  what  you  write  about," 
said  he  airily,  "so  you  know  how  to  do  it"- 
a  bit  of  criticism  suggestive  of  a  better-known 
critic. 

I  was  much  impressed  by  his  extraordinary  and 
extensive  experience.  In  the  course  of  our  con 
versation  I  mentioned  casually  the  episode  of  the 
delayed  train  and  the  private  car. 

"The  Argands'  car,  you  say?" 

I  told  him  that  that  was  what  some  one  had 
said. 

"That  would  make  a  good  story,"  he  declared. 
"I  think  I'll  write  that  up — I'd  have  all  the  babies 
dying  and  the  mothers  fainting  and  an  accident 
just  barely  averted  by  a  little  girl  waving  a  red 
shawl,  see — while  the  Argand  car  dashed  by  with  a 
party  eating  and  drinking  and  throwing  cham 
pagne  bottles  out  of  the  window.  But  I've  got  to 
go  and  see  the  Mayor  to  ascertain  why  he  ap 
pointed  the  new  city  comptroller,  and  then  I've 
got  to  drop  by  the  theatre  and  give  the  new  play 
a  roast — so  I'll  hardly  have  time  to  roast  those 
Argands  and  Leighs,  though  I'd  like  to  do  it  to 
teach  them  not  to  refuse  me  round-trip  passes 
next  time  I  ask  for  them.  I  tell  you  what  you  do," 

121 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

he  added,  modestly,  "you  write  it  up — you  say 
you  have  written  for  the  press?" 

"Oh!  yes,  very  often — and  for  the  magazines. 
I  have  had  stories  published  in— 

"Well,  that's  all  right."  (Kalender  was  not  a 
good  listener.)  "I'll  look  it  over  and  touch  it  up 
—put  the  fire  in  it  and  polish  it  off.  You  write  it 
up,  say — about  a  column.  I  can  cut  it  down  all 
right — and  I'll  call  by  here  for  it  about  eleven, 
after  the  theatre." 

It  was  a  cool  request — coolly  made;  but  I  was 
fool  enough  to  accede  to  it.  I  felt  much  aggrieved 
over  the  treatment  of  us  by  the  railway  company, 
and  was  not  sorry  to  air  my  grievance  at  the  same 
time  that  I  secured  a  possible  opening.  I  accord 
ingly  spent  all  the  afternoon  writing  my  account 
of  the  inconvenience  and  distress  occasioned  the 
travelling  public  by  the  inconsiderateness  of  the 
railway  management,  discussing,  by  the  way,  the 
fundamental  principle  of  ownership  in  quasi-public 
corporations,  and  showing  that  all  rights  which 
they  claimed  were  derived  from  the  people.  I 
mentioned  no  names  and  veiled  my  allusions ;  but 
I  paid  a  tribute  to  the  kind  heart  of  the  Angel  of 
Mercy  who  succored  the  children.  I  spent  some 
hours  at  my  composition  and  took  much  pride  in 
it  when  completed.  Then,  as  I  had  not  been  out  at 

122 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

all  to  see  the  town,  I  addressed  the  envelope  in 
which  I  had  placed  my  story  to  Mr.  Kalender,  and 
leaving  it  for  him,  walked  out  into  the  wilderness. 

On  my  return  the  paper  was  gone. 

Next  morning  I  picked  up  one  paper  after 
another,  but  did  not  at  first  find  my  contribution. 
An  account  of  a  grand  ball  the  night  before,  at 
which  an  extraordinary  display  of  wealth  must 
have  been  made,  was  given  the  prominent  place 
in  most  of  them.  But  as  I  did  not  know  the  per 
sons  whose  costumes  were  described  with  such 
Byzantine  richness  of  vocabulary,  I  passed  it  by. 
The  only  thing  referring  to  a  railway  journey  was 
a  column  article,  in  a  sensational  sheet  called  The 
Trumpet,  headed,  BRUTALITY  OF  MILLION 
AIRE  BANKER.  RAILWAY  PRESIDENT 
STARVES  POOR  PASSENGERS.  There  under 
these  glaring  headlines,  I  at  last  discovered  my 
article,  so  distorted  and  mutilated  as  to  be  scarcely 
recognizable.  The  main  facts  of  the  delay  and  its 
cause  were  there  as  I  wrote  them.  My  discussion 
of  derivative  rights  was  retained.  But  the  motive 
was  boldly  declared  to  be  brutal  hatred  of  the 
poor.  And  to  make  it  worse,  the  names  of  both 
Mr.  Leigh  and  Mrs.  Argand  were  given  as  having 
been  present  in  person,  gloating  over  the  misery 
they  had  caused,  while  a  young  lady,  whose  name 

123 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

was  not  given,  had  thrown  scraps  out  of  the  win 
dow  for  starving  children  and  dogs  to  scramble  for. 

To  say  that  I  was  angry  expresses  but  a  small 
part  of  the  truth.  The  allusion  to  the  young  lady 
had  made  my  blood  boil.  What  would  she  think 
if  she  should  know  I  had  had  a  hand  in  that  paper? 
I  waited  at  red  heat  for  my  young  man,  and  had 
he  appeared  before  I  cooled  down,  he  would  have 
paid  for  the  liberty  he  took  with  me.  When  he 
did  appear,  however,  he  was  so  innocent  of  having 
offended  me  that  I  could  scarcely  bear  to  attack 
him. 

"Well,  did  you  see  our  story?"  he  asked  gayly. 

"Yes — your  story — I  saw ' 

"Well,  I  had  to  do  a  little  to  it  to  make  it  go," 
he  said  condescendingly,  "but  you  did  very  well 
— you'll  learn." 

"Thank  you.  I  don't  want  to  learn  that,"  I  said 
hotly ; "  I  never  saw  anything  so  butchered.  There 
was  not  the  slightest  foundation  for  all  that  rot- 
it  was  made  up  out  of  whole  cloth."  I  was  boiling 
about  Miss  Leigh. 

"Pooh-pooh!  My  dear  boy,  you'll  never  make 
an  editor.  I  never  fake  an  interview,"  he  said 
virtuously.  "Lots  of  fellows  do;  but  I  don't.  But 
if  a  man  will  give  me  two  lines,  I  can  give  him  two 
columns — and  good  ones,  too.  Why,  we  had  two 

124 


I  PITCH  MY  TENT 

extras — what  with  that  and  the  grand  ball  last 
night.   The  newsboys  are  crying  it  all  over  town." 

"I  don't  care  if  they  are.  I  don't  want  to  be 
an  editor  if  one  has  to  tell  such  atrocious  lies  as 
that.  But  I  don't  believe  editors  have  to  do  that, 
and  I  know  reputable  editors  don't.  Why,  you 
have  named  a  man  who  was  a  hundred  miles 
away." 

He  simply  laughed. 

"Well,  I'm  quite  willing  to  get  the  credit  of  that 
paper.  That's  business.  We're  trying  to  break 
down  the  Leigh  interests,  and  the  Argands  are 
mixed  up  with  'em.  Coll  McSheen  was  in  the 
office  last  night.  He's  counsel  for  the  Argands, 
but — you  don't  know  Coll  McSheen?" 

"I  do  not,"  I  said  shortly. 

"He's  deep.  You  know  you  write  better  than 
you  talk,"  he  added  patronizingly.  "I  tell  you 
what  I'll  do — if  you'll  write  me  every  day  on  some 
live  topic ' 

"I'll  never  write  you  a  line  again  on  any  topic, 
alive  or  dead,  unless  you  die  yourself,  when  I'll 
write  that  you  are  the  biggest  liar  I  ever  saw 
except  my  Jeams." 

I  had  expected  he  would  resent  my  words,  but 
he  did  not.  He  only  laughed,  and  said,  "That's 
a  good  line.  Write  on  that." 

125 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  learned  later  that  he  had  a  slight  raise  of 
salary  on  the  paper  he  palmed  off  as  his.  I  could 
only  console  myself  with  the  hope  that  Miss  Leigh 
would  not  see  the  article. 

But  Miss  Leigh  did  see  the  appreciation  of  her 
father  in  the  writing  of  which  I  had  had  a  hand, 
and  it  cost  me  many  a  dark  hour  of  sad  repining. 


126 


X 


A  NEW  GIRL 

HPHIS  is  how  the  young  lady  heard  of  it.  Miss 
Leigh  had  been  at  home  but  an  hour  or  two 
and  had  only  had  time  to  change  her  travelling 
costume  for  a  suit  of  light  blue  with  a  blue  hat  to 
match,  which  was  very  becoming  to  her,  and  order 
the  carriage  to  drive  down  and  get  her  father, 
when  a  visitor  was  announced:  Miss  Milly  Mc- 
Sheen,  an  old  schoolmate — and  next  moment 
a  rather  large,  flamboyant  girl  of  about  Miss 
Leigh's  own  age  or  possibly  a  year  or  two  older, 
bounced  into  the  room  as  if  she  had  been  shot  in 
out  of  one  of  those  medieval  engines  which  flung 
men  into  walled  towns. 

She  began  to  talk  volubly  even  before  she  was 
actually  in  the  room;  she  talked  all  through  her 
energetic  if  hasty  embrace  of  her  friend,  and  all 
the  time  she  was  loosening  the  somewhat  com 
plicated  fastening  of  a  dotted  veil  which,  while  it 
obscured,  added  a  certain  charm  to  a  round, 
florid,  commonplace,  but  good-humored  face  in 
which  smiled  two  round,  shallow  blue  eyes. 

127 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Well,  my  dear,"  she  began  while  yet  outside 
the  door,  "I  thought  you  never  were  coming  back! 
Never!  And  I  believe  if  I  hadn't  finally  made  up 
my  mind  to  get  you  back  you  would  have  stayed 
forever  in  that  nasty,  stuck-up  city  of  Brotherly 
Love." 

Miss  Leigh  a  little  airily  observed  that  that  title 
applied  to  Philadelphia,  and  she  had  only  passed 
through  Philadelphia  on  a  train  one  night. 

"Oh!  well,  it  was  some  kind  of  love,  I'll  be 
bound,  and  some  one's  else  brother,  too,  that  kept 
you  away  so  long." 

"No,  it  was  not — not  even  some  one  else's 
brother,"  replied  Miss  Leigh. 

"Oh!  for  Heaven's  sake,  don't  tell  me  that's 
wrong.  Why,  I've  been  practising  that  all 
summer.  It  sounds  so  grammatical — so  New 
Yorkish." 

"I  can't  help  it.  It  may  be  New  Yorkish,  but  it 
isn't  grammatical,"  said  Miss  Leigh.  "But  I  never 
expected  to  get  back  earlier.  My  aunt  had  to  look 
into  some  of  her  affairs  in  the  East  and  had  to 
settle  some  matters  with  a  lawyer  down  South, 
a  friend  of  my  father's — an  old  gentleman  who 
used  to  be  one  of  her  husband's  partners  and  is 
her  trustee  or  something,  and  I  had  to  wait  till 
they  got  matters  settled." 

128 


A  NEW  GIRL 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  are  here  in  time.  I  was  so 
afraid  you  wouldn't  be,  that  I  got  pa  to  telegraph 
and  have  your  car  put  on  the  president's  special 
train  that  was  coming  through  and  had  the  right 
of  way.  I  told  him  that  I  didn't  see  that  because 
your  father  had  resigned  from  the  directory  was 
any  reason  why  you  shouldn't  be  brought  on  the 
train." 

"Were  we  indebted  to  you  for  that  attention?" 
Eleanor  Leigh's  voice  had  a  tone  of  half  incredu 
lity. 

"Yep — I  am  the  power  behind  the  throne  just 
at  present.  Pa  and  old  Mr.  Canter  have  buried 
the  hatchet  and  are  as  thick  as  thieves  since  their 
new  deal,  and  Jim  Canter  told  me  his  car  was 
coming  through  on  a  special.  Oh!  you  ought  to 
hear  him  the  way  he  says,  My  car,  and  throws  his 
chest  out!  So  I  said  I  wanted  him  to  find  out 
where  you  were  on  the  road — on  what  train,  I 
mean — and  pick  you  up,  and  he  said  he  would." 

"Oh!  I  see,"  said  Miss  Leigh,  looking  somewhat 
annoyed. 

"He  did,  didn't  he?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  know  Jim  Canter  is  a  very  promising 
young  man,  much  more  so  than  he  is  a  fulfiller. 

What  are  you  so  serious  about?  You  look  as " 

129 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Nothing — only  I  don't  wish  to  be  beholden  to 
—I  was  just  wondering  what  right  we  have  to 
stop  trains  full  of  people  who  have  paid  for  their 
tickets  and— 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  other  girl  in  astonish 
ment,  "what  right?  Why,  our  fathers  are  direc 
tors,  aren't  they — at  least,  my  father  is — and  own 
a  block  of  the  stock  that  controls ?" 

"Yes;  but  all  these  people — who  pay — and 
who  had  no  breakfast?" 

"Oh!  don't  you  worry  about  them — they'll  get 
along  somehow — and  if  they  pay  they'll  look  out 
for  themselves  without  your  doing  it.  My  way  is 
to  make  all  I  can  out  of  them  and  enjoy  it  while 
I  can — that's  what  pa  says." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Leigh  acquiescingly,  "but  I'm 
not  sure  that  it's  right." 

"You've  been  reading  that  man's  articles,"  de 
clared  Miss  McSheen.  "I  know — I  have,  too — 
everybody  has — all  the  girls.  I  am  a  socialist — 
aren't  they  terribly  striking  ?  He's  so  good-look 
ing.  Pa  says  he's  a  Jew  and  an  anarchist,  and 
ought  to  be  in  jail." 

"Are  you  speaking  of  Mr.  Wolffert?" 

"Yes,  of  course.  Now  you  need  not  make 
out  you  don't  know  him ;  because  they  say— 

"Yes,  I  know  him  very  well,"  said  Miss  Leigh, 

130 


A  NEW  GIRL 

so  stiffly  that  her  guest  paused  and  changed  her 
tone. 

"Well,  anyhow,  my  dear,  you  are  just  in  time. 
We  are  going  to  have  the  biggest  thing  we've  ever 
had  in  this  town.  I've  almost  died  laughing  over 
it  already." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Wait.  I'm  going  to  tell  you  all  about  it.  You 
know  it  was  all  my  idea.  Harriet  Minturn  claims 
the  whole  credit  for  it  now  that  I've  made  it  go — 
says  she  first  suggested  it;  and  I  assure  you,  my 
dear,  she  never  opened  her  head  about  it  till  I 
had  all  the  girls  wild  about  it,  and  had  arranged 
for  the  costumes  and  had  gotten  the  count  to 
promise " 

"What  is  it?"  interrupted  her  hostess  again, 
laughing. 

"Wait,  my  dear,  I'm  going  to  tell  you  all  about 
it.  The  count's  a  socialist,  too.  He  says  he  is 
— but  you  mustn't  tell  that;  he  told  me  in  the 
strictest  confidence.  Well,  the  count's  to  go  as 
courtier  of  the  court  of — what's  the  name  of 
that  old  king  or  emperor,  or  whatever  he  was, 
that  conquered  that  country — you  know  what  I 
mean " 

"No,  indeed,  I  do  not — and  I  haven't  the  least 
idea  what  you  are  talking  about." 

131 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Oh!  pshaw!  I  know  perfectly  well,  and  you 
do,  too.  The  count  bet  me  I'd  forget  it  and  I  bet 
him  a  gold  cigar-holder  I  wouldn't — what  is  his 
name?  Won't  the  count  look  handsome  with  lace 
ruffles  and  gold  braid  all  over  his  chest  and  coat- 
tails,  and  a  cocked  hat  ?  He's  been  showing  me 
the  way  they  dance  in  his  country.  I  almost  died 
laughing  over  it — only  it  makes  me  so  dizzy,  they 
never  reverse — just  whirl  and  whirl  and  whirl. 
You  know  he's  a  real  count?  Yes,  my  father's 
taken  the  trouble  to  hunt  that  up.  He  said  he 

wasn't  'going  to  let  a  d d  dago  come  around 

me  without  anybody  knowing  who  or  what  he  is.' 
Ain't  that  like  pa?" 

"I — I — don't  think  I  ever  met  your  father," 
said  Eleanor  stiffly. 

"Oh!  that's  a  fact.  Well,  'tis — 'tis  just  exactly 
like  him.  As  soon  as  the  count  began  to  come 
around  our  house — a  good  deal — I  mean,  really, 
quite  a  good  deal — you  understand?"  said 
the  girl,  tossing  her  blonde  head,  "what  must 
pa  do  but  go  to  work  and  hunt  him  up.  He 
thinks  Jim  Canter  is  a  winner,  but  I  tell  him 
Jimmy's  bespoke."  She  looked  at  her  hostess 
archly. 

"What  did  he  find  out?"  inquired  Miss  Leigh 
coldly,  "and  how  did  he  do  it?" 

132 


A  NEW  GIRL 

"Why,  he  just  ran  him  down,"  explained  the 
girl  easily,  "just  as  he  does  anybody  he  wants  to 
know  about — put  a  man  on  him,  you  know." 

"Oh!  I  see."  Miss  Leigh  froze  up  a  little;  but 
the  other  girl  did  not  notice  it. 

"Only  this  one  was  somebody  on  the  other  side, 
of  course,  and  he  found  out  that  he's  all  right. 
He's  a  real  count.  He's  the  third  son  of  Count 
Pushkin,  who  was — let  me  see — a  counsellor  of  his 
emperor,  the  Emperor  of  Sweden." 

"I  didn't  know  they  had  an  emperor  in  Sweden. 
He's  a  new  one." 

"Haven't  they?  Oh!  well,  maybe  it  was  the 
King  of  Sweden,  or  the  Emperor  of  Russia — I 
don't  know — they  are  all  alike  to  me.  I  never 
could  keep  them  apart,  even  at  Miss  de  Pense's. 
I  only  know  he's  a  real  count,  and  I  won  a  hundred 
dollars  from  pa  on  a  bet  that  he  was.  And  he 
hated  to  pay  it!  He  bet  that  he  was  a  cook  or  a 
barber.  And  I  bet  he  wasn't.  And,  oh!  you  know 
it's  an  awfully  good  joke  on  him — for  he  was  a 
waiter  in  New  York  for  a  while." 

"A  what?" 

"A  waiter — oh,  just  for  a  little  while  after  he 
came  over — before  his  remittances  arrived.  But 
I  made  pa  pay  up,  because  he  said  cook  or  barber. 
I  put  it  in  this  hat,  see,  ain't  it  a  wonder?"  She 

133 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

turned  herself  around  before  a  mirror  and  admired 
her  hat  which  was,  indeed,  as  Miss  Leigh  was 
forced  to  admit,  "a  wonder." 

"  You  know  it's  just  like  the  hat  Gabrielle  Light- 
foot  wears  in  the  'Star  of  the  Harem'  when  she 
comes  in  in  the  balloon.  I  got  her  to  let  me  copy 
it — exactly." 

"You  did?    How  did  you  manage  that?" 

"Why,  you  see,  Jimmy  Canter  knows  her,  and 
he  asked  Harriet  and  me  to  supper  to  meet  her, 
and  I  declare  she  nearly  made  me  die  laughing— 
you  know  she's  a  real  sweet  girl — Jimmy  says 
she » 

"Who  chaperoned  you?"  asked  Miss  Leigh,  as 
she  began  to  put  on  her  gloves. 

"Chaperon?  My  dear,  that's  where  the  fun 
came  in — we  didn't  have  any  chaperon.  I  pre 
tended  that  Harriet  and  the  count  were  married 
and  called  her  countess,  and  she  was  so  flattered 
at  being  given  the  title  that  she  was  pleased  to 
death — though  you  know,  she's  really  dead  hi 
love  with  Jimmy  Canter,  and  he  hardly  looks  at 
her.  If  he's  in  love  with  any  one — except  Mr. 
James  Canter,  Jr. — it's  with  some  one  else  I 
know."  She  nodded  her  head  knowingly. 

"I'm  afraid  I  have  to  go  now,"  said  Miss  Leigh, 
"my  father  expects  me  to  come  for  him."  She 

134 


A  NEW  GIRL 

glanced  at  a  jewelled  watch.  She  had  stiffened 
up  slightly. 

"Well,  of  course,  you'll  come?" 

" To  what?" 

"To  our  ball — that's  what  it  is,  you  know, 
though  it's  for  a  charity,  and  we  make  others  pay 
for  it.  Why  shouldn't  they?  I  haven't  decided 
yet  what  charity.  Harriet  wants  it  to  be  for  a 
home  for  cats.  You'd  know  she'd  want  that  now, 
wouldn't  you?  She'll  be  in  there  herself  some 
day.  But  I'm  not  going  to  let  it  go  for  anything 
she  wants.  She's  claiming  now  that  she  got  it  up, 
and  I'm  just  going  to  show  her  who  did.  I'm 
thinking  of  giving  it  to  that  young  preacher  you 
met  in  the  country  two  years  ago  and  got  so  inter 
ested  in 't  you  got  Doctor  Capon  to  bring  him  here 
as  his  assistant." 

"You  couldn't  give  it  to  a  better  cause,"  said 
Miss  Leigh.  "I  wonder  how  he  is  coming  on?" 

"I  guess  you  know  all  right.  But  pa  says," 
pursued  Miss  McSheen  without  heeding  further 
the  interruption,  "we  are  ruining  the  poor,  and 
the  reason  they  won't  work  is  that  we  are  always 
giving  them  money.  You  know  they're  striking 
on  our  lines — some  of  them.  I  haven't  decided 
yet  what  to  give  it  to.  Oh!  you  ought  to  see  the 
doctor.  He's  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  He  came  to 

135 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

see  me  the  other  day.  It  almost  made  me  die 
laughing.  You  know  he's  dead  in  love  with  your 
aunt.  I  used  to  think  it  was  you;  but  pa  says 
I'm  always  thinking  everybody  is  in  love  with  you 
— even  the  count — but  he  says—  However— 

"I'll  tell  you  what!"  said  Miss  Leigh  suddenly, 
"I'll  come  to  the  ball  if  you'll  give  the  proceeds  to 
Mr.  Marvel  for  his  poor  people." 

"Done!  See  there!  what  did  I  tell  you!  I 
thought  you  weren't  so  pious  for  nothing  all  on 
a  sudden " 

"Milly,  you're  a  goose,"  said  Miss  Leigh,  pick 
ing  up  her  sunshade. 

"I'm  a  wise  one,  though — what  was  it  our 
teacher  used  to  tell  us  about  the  geese  giving  the 
alarm  somewhere?  But  I  don't  care.  I'm  the 
treasurer  and  pay  the  bills.  Pa  says  the  man 
that  holds  the  bag  gets  the  swag.  Bring  your 
father.  We'll  get  something  grand  out  of  him. 
He  always  gives  to  everything.  I'll  call  him  up 
and  tell  him  to  be  sure  and  come.  You  know 
they've  landed  the  deal.  Pa  says  every  one  of 
them  has  made  a  pile.  Your  father  might  have 
made  it,  too,  if  he'd  come  in,  but  I  think  he  was 
fighting  them  or  something,  I  don't  quite  under 
stand  it — anyhow  it's  all  done  now,  and  I'm  go 
ing  to  hold  pa  up  for  the  pearl  necklace  he  prom- 

136 


A  NEW  GIRL 

ised  to  give  me.  There's  a  perfect  beauty  at  Setter 
&  Stoneberg's,  only  seventeen  thousand,  and  I 
believe  they'll  take  ten  if  it's  planked  down  in  cold 
cash.  Pa  says  the  way  to  get  a  man  is  to  put  down 
the  cold  cash  before  him  and  let  him  fasten  his  eye 
on  it.  If  he's  a  Jew  he  says  he'll  never  let  it  go. 
I  tell  him  by  the  same  token  he  must  be  a  Jew 
himself;  because  he  holds  on  to  all  the  money  he 
ever  lays  his  eye  on." 

"Can  I  take  you  down-town  anywhere?"  in 
quired  Miss  Leigh,  in  a  rather  neutral  voice. 

"No,  my  dear,  just  let  me  fix  my  hat.  I  have 
to  go  the  other  way.  In  fact,  I  told  the  count 
that  I  was  going  up  to  the  park  for  a  little  spin, 
and  he  asked  if  he  couldn't  come  along.  I  didn't 
want  him,  of  course — men  are  so  in  the  way  in 
the  morning,  don't  you  think  so?  Is  that  quite 
right?"  She  gave  her  head  a  toss  to  test  the 
steadiness  of  her  hat. 

"Quite,"  said  Miss  Leigh. 

"Well,  good-by.  I'll  count  on  you  then.  Oh! 
I  tell  you — among  the  entertainments,  the  count 
is  going  to  perform  some  wonderful  sleight-of- 
hand  tricks,  with  cards.  My  dear,  he's  a  magi 
cian!  He  can  do  anything  with  cards.  Heavens! 
it's  after  one.  The  count — good-by — good-by." 

And  as  Miss  Leigh  entered  her  victoria  the 
137 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

young  lady  rushed  off,  up  the  street,  straining  her 
eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  park. 

That  night  "the  ball,"  as  Miss  McSheen  called 
it,  came  off  and  was  a  huge  success,  as  was  duly 
chronicled  in  all  the  morning  papers  next  day 
with  an  elaboration  of  description  of  millinery  in 
exact  proportion  to  the  degree  of  prominence  of 
the  wearer  in  the  particular  circle  in  which  the 
editor  or  his  reporter  moved  or  aspired  to  move. 
Mrs.  Argand  stood  first  hi  "wine-colored  velvet, 
priceless  lace,"  of  the  sort  that  reporters  of  the 
female  sex  deem  dearest,  and  "diamonds  and  ru 
bies"  that  would  have  staggered  Sindbad,  the 
sailor.  Miss  McSheen  ran  her  a  close  second,  in 
"rose-colored  satin,  and  sapphires,"  spoken  of  as 
"priceless  heirlooms."  Miss  Leigh  shone  lower 
down  in  "chiffon,  lace,  and  pearls  of  great  price." 
So  they  went  columnsful,  all  priceless,  all  beauti 
ful,  all  superlative,  till  superlatives  were  exhausted 
and  the  imagination  of  the  reporters  ran  riot  in  an 
excess  of  tawdry  color  and  English. 

Among  the  men  especially  lauded  were,  first, 
a  certain  Mr.  James  Canter,  son  and  partner  of 
"the  famous  Mr.  Canter,  the  capitalist  and  finan 
cier,"  who  gave  promise  of  rivalling  his  father  in 
his  "notorious  ability,"  and,  secondly,  a  Count 
Pushkin,  the  "distinguished  scion  of  a  noble  house 

138 


A  NEW  GIRL 

of  international  reputation  who  was  honoring  the 
city  with  his  distinguished  presence,  and  was 
generally  credited  with  having  led  captive  the 
heart  of  one  of  the  city's  fairest  and  wealthiest 
daughters."  So  ran  the  record.  And  having 
nothing  to  do,  I  read  that  morning  the  account 
and  dwelt  on  the  only  name  I  recognized,  the 
young  lady  of  the  white  chiffon  and  pearls,  and 
wondered  who  the  men  were  whose  names  stood 
next  to  hers. 


139 


XI 

ELEANOR   LEIGH 

TV/T ISS  LEIGH  also  read  the  papers  that  morn- 
ing  and  with  much  amusement  till  in  one  of 
them — the  most  sensational  of  all  the  morning 
journals — she  came  on  an  article  which  first  made 
her  heart  stop  beating  and  then  set  it  to  racing 
with  sheer  anger.  To  think  that  such  a  slander 
could  be  uttered!  She  would  have  liked  to  make 
mince-meat  of  that  editor.  He  was  always  attack 
ing  her  father. 

A  little  later  she  began  to  think  of  the  rest  of 
the  article!  What  was  the  truth?  Did  they  have 
the  right  to  stop  the  train  and  hold  it  back?  This 
sort  of  thing  was  what  a  writer  whom  she  knew 
denied  in  a  series  of  papers  which  a  friend  of  hers, 
a  young  clergyman  who  worked  among  the  poor, 
had  sent  her  and  which  the  press  generally  was 
denouncing. 

She  had  for  some  time  been  reading  these  pa 
pers  that  had  been  appearing  in  the  press  periodi 
cally.  They  were  written  by  a  person  who  was 

140 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

generally  spoken  of  as  "a  Jew,"  but  who  wrote 
with  a  pen  which  had  the  point  of  a  rapier,  and 
whose  sentences  ate  into  the  steely  plate  of  arti 
ficial  convention  like  an  acid.  One  of  the  things 
he  had  said  had  stuck  in  her  memory.  "As  the 
remains  of  animalculse  of  past  ages  furnish,  when 
compressed  in  almost  infinite  numbers,  the  lime- 
food  on  which  the  bone  and  muscle  of  the  present 
race  of  cattle  in  limestone  regions  are  built  up,  so 
the  present  big-boned  race  of  the  wealthy  class 
live  on  the  multitudinous  class  of  the  poor." 

The  summer  before  she  had  met  the  writer  of 
these  articles  and  he  had  made  an  impression  on 
her  which  had  not  been  effaced.  She  had  not 
analyzed  her  feelings  to  ascertain  how  far  this 
impression  was  due  to  his  classical  face,  his  deep, 
luminous  eyes,  and  his  impassioned  manner,  yet 
certain  it  is  that  all  of  these  had  struck  her. 

Perhaps,  I  should  give  just  here  a  little  more  of 
Miss  Eleanor  Leigh's  history  as  I  came  to  know 
of  it  later  on.  How  I  came  to  know  of  it  may  or 
may  not  be  divulged  later.  But,  at  least,  I  learned 
it.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  who, 
until  she  came  and  began  to  tyrannize  over  him, 
gave  up  all  of  his  time  and  talents  to  building  up 
enterprises  of  magnitude  and  amassing  a  fortune. 
He  had  showed  abilities  and  ambition  at  college 

141 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"back  East,"  where  he  came  from,  and  when  he 
first  struck  for  the  West  and  started  out  in  life,  it 
was  in  a  region  and  amid  surroundings  which  were 
just  becoming  of  more  than  local  importance,  as 
they  a  little  later  grew,  under  the  guidance  of  men 
of  action  like  himself,  to  be  of  more  than  sectional 
importance.  The  new  West  as  it  was  then  had 
called  to  him  imperiously  and  he  had  responded. 
Flinging  himself  into  the  current  which  was  just 
beginning  to  take  on  force,  he  soon  became  one  of 
the  pilots  of  the  development  which,  changing  a 
vast  region  where  roamed  Indians  and  buffalo 
into  a  land  of  cities  and  railways,  shortly  made  its 
mark  on  the  nation  and,  indeed,  on  the  world, 
and  he  was  before  long  swept  quite  away  by  it, 
leaving  behind  all  the  intellectual  ambitions  and 
dreams  he  had  ever  cherished,  and  giving  himself 
up  soul  and  body  to  the  pleasure  he  got  out  of  his 
success  as  an  organizer  and  administrator  of  large 
enterprises.  Wealth  at  first  was  important  to  him, 
then  it  became,  if  not  unimportant,  at  least  of 
secondary  importance  to  the  power  he  possessed. 
Then  it  became  of  importance  again — indeed  of 
supreme  importance;  for  the  power  he  wielded 
was  now  dependent  on  wealth  and  great  wealth. 
His  associates  were  all  men  of  large  interests,  and 
only  one  with  similar  interests  could  lead  them. 

142 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

New  conditions  had  come  about  of  late  and  new 
methods  which  he  could  neither  employ  nor  con 
tend  against  successfully. 

As  he  looked  back  on  it  later  it  appeared  a 
feverish  dream  through  which  he  had  passed.  Its 
rewards  were  undeniable :  luxury,  reputation,  and 
power  beyond  anything  he  had  ever  conceived  of. 
Yet  what  had  he  not  sacrificed  for  them!  Every 
thing  that  he  had  once  held  up  before  his  mind 
as  a  noble  ambition:  study,  reading,  association 
with  the  great  and  noble  of  all  time ;  art  and  love 
of  art ;  appreciation  of  all  except  wealth  that  men 
have  striven  for  through  the  ages;  friendship — 
domestic  joy — everything  except  riches  and  the 
power  they  bring.  For  as  he  thought  over  his  past 
in  his  growing  loneliness  he  found  himself  com 
pelled  to  admit  that  he  had  sacrificed  all  the  rest. 
He  had  married  a  woman  he  loved  and  admired. 
He  had  given  her  wealth  and  luxury  instead  of 
himself,  and  she  had  pined  and  died  before  he 
awakened  to  the  tragic  fact.  He  had  grieved  for 
her,  but  he  could  not  conceal  from  himself  the 
brutal  fact  that  she  had  ceased  years  before  to  be 
to  him  as  necessary  as  his  business.  She  had  left 
him  one  child.  Two  others  had  died  in  infancy, 
and  he  had  mourned  for  them  and  sympathized 
with  her;  but  he  never  knew  for  years,  and  until 

143 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

too  late,  how  stricken  she  had  been  over  their  loss. 
The  child  she  had  left  him  had  in  some  way  taken 
hold  on  him  and  had  held  it  even  against  himself. 
She  had  so  much  of  himself  in  her  that  he  himself 
could  see  the  resemblance:  his  natural  kindness, 
his  good  impulses,  his  wilfulness,  his  resolution 
and  ambition  to  lead  and  to  succeed  in  all  he 
undertook. 

Even  from  the  earliest  days  when  she  was  left 
to  him,  Mr.  Leigh  was  made  aware  by  Eleanor 
that  he  had  something  out  of  the  ordinary  to  deal 
with.  The  arrangement  by  which,  on  the  death 
of  her  mother,  she  was  taken  by  her  half-aunt,  Mrs. 
Argand,  to  be  cared  for,  "because  the  poor  child 
needed  a  mother  to  look  after  her,"  fell  through 
promptly  when  the  little  thing  who  had  rebelled 
at  the  plan  appeared,  dusty  and  dishevelled  but 
triumphant,  in  her  father's  home  that  first  even 
ing,  as  he  was  preparing,  after  leaving  his  office, 
to  go  and  see  her.  It  was  doubtless  an  auspicious 
moment  for  the  little  rebel ;  for  her  father  was  at 
the  instant  steeped  in  grief  and  loneliness  and 
self-reproach.  He  had  worked  like  fury  all  day  to 
try  to  forget  his  loss;  but  his  return  home  to 
his  empty  house  had  torn  open  his  wounds  afresh, 
and  the  echoing  of  his  solitary  footfall  on  the  stair 
and  in  the  vacant  rooms  had  almost  driven  him  to 

144 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

despair.  Every  spot — every  turn  was  a  red-hot 
brand  on  the  fresh  wound.  No  man  had  loved  his 
wife  more;  but  he  awoke  now  when  too  late  to  the 
torturing  fact  that  he  had  left  her  much  alone. 
He  had  worked  for  her,  leaving  the  enjoyment  to 
the  future;  and  she  had  died  before  the  future 
came,  in  that  desolate  present  which  was  to  be 
linked  forever  to  the  irretrievable  past.  It  was  at 
this  moment  that  he  heard  a  familiar  step  outside 
his  door.  His  heart  almost  stopped  to  listen.  It 
could  not  be  Eleanor — she  was  safe  at  her  aunt's, 
blocks  away,  awaiting  the  fulfilment  of  his  prom 
ise  to  come  to  see  her — and  it  was  now  dark. 
Could  it  be  a  delusion?  His  over- wrought  brain 
might  have  fancied  it.  Next  second  the  door 
burst  open,  and  in  rushed  Eleanor  with  a  cry — 
"Oh,  papa!" 

"Why,  Nelly!   How  did  you  come  ?" 
"Slipped  out  and  ran  away!   You  did  not  come 
and  I  could  not  stay." 

When  the  emotion  of  the  first  greeting  was  over, 
Mr.  Leigh,  under  the  strong  sense  of  what  he 
deemed  his  duty  to  the  child,  and  also  to  the  dear 
dead — which  had  led  him  at  first  to  make  the 
sacrifice  of  yielding  to  his  sister-in-law's  urgency, 
began  to  explain  to  the  little  girl  the  impropriety 
of  her  action,  and  the  importance  of  her  returning 

145 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

to  her  aunt,  when  she  had  been  so  kind.  But  he 
found  it  a  difficult  task.  Mr.  Leigh  believed  in 
discipline.  He  had  been  brought  up  in  a  rigid 
school,  and  he  knew  it  made  for  character;  but  it 
was  uphill  work  with  the  little  girl's  arms  clasped 
about  his  neck  and  her  hot,  tear-streaked  little 
face  pressed  close  to  his  as  she  pleaded  and  met  his 
arguments  with  a  promptness  and  an  aptness 
which  astonished  him.  Moreover,  she  had  a  strong 
advocate  in  his  own  heart,  and  from  the  first  mo 
ment  when  she  had  burst  in  on  his  heart-breaking 
loneliness  he  had  felt  that  he  could  not  let  her  go 
again  if  she  were  unhappy. 

"She  would  not  go  back,"  she  asserted  defiantly. 
"She  hated  her  aunt,  anyhow — she  was  a  hateful 
old  woman  who  scolded  her  servants,  and  sent 
her  up-stairs  to  her  supper." 

When  to  this  her  father  promptly  replied  that 
she  must  go  back,  and  he  would  take  her,  she  as 
promptly  changed  her  note.  t 

"Very  well,  she  would  go  back;  he  need  not 
come  with  her;  but  she  would  die." 

"Oh,  no,  you  will  not  die.  You  will  soon  grow 
very  fond  of  her." 

"Then  I  shall  grow  very  worldly,  like  her,"  said 
Miss  Precocity. 

"What  makes  you  think  that?" 
146 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

"Because  she  is  a  worldly  old  woman — and  you 
said  so  yourself." 

' '  I  said  so !  When?  "  demanded  her  father,  with 
a  guilty  feeling  of  vague  recollection. 

''To  mamma  once — when  mamma  said  some 
thing  against  her  husband,  you  said  that,  and 
mamma  said  you  ought  not  to  say  that  about  her 
sister — and  you  said  she  was  only  her  half-sister, 
anyhow,  and  not  a  bit  like  her — and  now  you  want 
to  send  me  back  to  her  as  if  I  were  only  your  half- 
child." 

The  father  smiled  sadly  enough  as  he  drew  the 
anxious  little  face  close  to  his  own. 

"Oh,  no — you  are  all  mine,  and  my  all.  I  only 
want  to  do  what  is  right." 

"Mamma  wants  me  to  stay  with  you — so  it 
must  be  right." 

The  present  tense  used  by  the  child  struck  the 
father  to  the  heart. 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  he  asked  with  a 
sigh.  The  little  girl  was  quick  to  catch  at  the 
new  hope. 

"She  told  me  so  the  day  before  she  died,  when  I 
was  in  the  room  with  her;  she  said  you  would  be 
lonely,  and  I  must  be  a  comfort  to  you." 

Mr.  Leigh  gave  a  gasp  that  was  almost  a  groan, 
and  the  child  flung  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

147 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"And  I  sha'n't  leave  you,  my  all-papa,  unless 
you  drive  me;  I  promised  mamma  I  would  stay 
and  take  care  of  you,  and  I  will.  And  you  won't 
make  me — will  you?  For  I  am  your  all-daughter. 
You  won't,  will  you?" 

"No,  d d  if  I  do!"  said  the  father,  catching 

her  to  his  heart,  and  trying  to  smother  the  oath 
as  it  burst  from  his  lips. 

As  soon  as  she  had  quieted  down,  he  went  to  her 
aunt's  to  make  the  necessary  explanation.  He 
found  it  not  the  easiest  task,  for  the  good  lady  had 
her  own  ideas  and  had  formed  her  plans,  and  the 
change  was  a  blow  to  her  amour  propre.  It  was, 
in  fact,  the  beginning  of  the  breach  between  Mr. 
Leigh  and  his  sister-in-law  which  led  eventually  to 
the  antagonism  between  them. 

"You  are  going  to  spoil  that  child  to  death!" 
exclaimed  the  affronted  lady.  This  Mr.  Leigh 
denied,  though  in  his  heart  he  thought  it  possible. 
It  was  not  a  pleasant  interview,  for  Mrs.  Argand 
was  deeply  offended.  But  Mr.  Leigh  felt  that  it 
was  well  worth  the  cost  when,  on  his  return  home, 
he  was  greeted  by  a  cry  of  joy  from  the  top  of  the 
stair  where  the  little  girl  sat  in  her  dressing  gown 
awaiting  him.  And  when  with  a  cry  of  joy  she 
came  rushing  down,  Cinderella-like,  dropping  her 
slipper  in  her  excitement,  and  flung  herself  into 

148 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

his  arms,  he  knew  that  life  had  begun  for  him 
anew. 

Mr.  Leigh  was  quite  aware  of  the  truth  of  Mrs. 
Argand's  prophecy;  but  he  enjoyed  the  spoiling 
of  his  daughter,  which  she  had  foretold,  and  he 
enjoyed  equally  the  small  tyrannies  which  the 
cliild  exercised  over  him,  and  also  the  develop 
ment  of  her  mind  as  the  budding  years  passed. 

"Papa,"  she  said  one  day,  when  she  had  asked 
him  to  take  her  somewhere,  and  he  had  pleaded 
"business,"  "why  do  you  go  to  the  office  so 
much?" 

"I  have  to  work  to  make  money  for  my  daugh 
ter,"  said  her  father,  stating  the  first  reason  that 
suggested  itself. 

"Are  you  not  rich  enough  now?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  am,  with  a  young 
lady  growing  up  on  my  hands,"  said  her  father, 
smiling. 

"Am  I  very  expensive?"  she  asked  with  a 
sudden  little  expression  of  gravity  coming  over 
her  face. 

"No,  that  you  are  not,  my  dear — and  if  you 
were,  there  is  no  pleasure  on  earth  to  me  like  giv 
ing  it  to  you.  That  is  one  of  my  chief  reasons  for 
working  so  steadily,  though  there  are  others." 

"I  have  plenty  of  money,"  said  Eleanor. 
149 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Then  you  are  happier  than  most  people,  who 
don't  know  when  they  have  plenty." 

"Yes — you  see,  all  I  have  to  do  when  I  want 
anything  is  to  go  into  a  store  and  ask  for  it,  and 
tell  them  I  am  your  daughter,  and  they  let  me 
have  it  at  once." 

"Oh,  ho!"  said  her  father,  laughing,  "so  that  is 
the  way  you  buy  things,  is  it?  No  wonder  you 
have  plenty.  Well,  you'd  better  come  to  me  and 
ask  for  what  you  want." 

"I  think  the  other  is  the  easier  way,  and  as  you 
say  you  like  to  give  it  to  me,  I  don't  see  that  it 
makes  any  difference." 

Mr.  Leigh  decided  that  he  had  better  explain 
the  difference. 

"I  hate  rich  people,"  said  Eleanor  suddenly. 
"They  are  so  vulgar." 

"For  example?"  enquired  her  father,  looking 
with  some  amusement  at  the  girl  whose  face  had 
suddenly  taken  on  an  expression  of  severe  prig- 
gishness. 

"Oh!  Aunt  Sophia  and  Milly  McSheen.  They 
are  always  talking  about  their  money." 

Mr.  Leigh's  eyes  were  twinkling. 

"You  must  not  talk  that  way  about  your  Aunt 
Sophia — she  is  very  fond  of  you." 

"She  is  always  nagging  at  me — correcting  me." 

150 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

"She  wants  you  to  grow  up  to  be  a  fine  woman." 

"Like  her?"  said  Miss  Eleanor  pertly. 

Mr.  Leigh  felt  that  it  was  wise  to  check  this  line 
of  criticism,  and  he  now  spoke  seriously. 

"You  must  not  be  so  critical  of  your  aunt.  She 
is  really  very  fond  of  you — and  she  was  your 
mother's  half-sister.  You  must  respect  her  and 
love  her." 

"I  love  her,  but  I  don't  like  her.  She  and  Milly 
McSheen  are  just  alike — always  boasting  of  what 
they  have,  and  do,  and  running  down  what  others 
have,  and  do." 

"Oh,  well,  it  takes  a  great  many  people  to  make 
a  world,"  said  Mr.  Leigh  indulgently.  Eleanor  felt 
a  want  of  sympathy  and  made  another  bid  for  it. 

"Milly  McSheen  says  that  her  father  is  going  to 
be  the  richest  man  in  this  town." 

"Ah!  who  is  talking  about  money  now?"  said 
Mr.  Leigh,  laughing. 

"I  am  not — i  am  merely  saying  what  she  said." 

"You  must  not  tell  the  silly  things  your  friends 
say." 

"No — only  to  you — I  thought  you  said  I  must 
tell  you  everything.  But,  of  course,  if  you  don't 
wish  me  to  I  won't." 

Mr.  Leigh  laughed  and  took  her  on  his  knee. 
He  was  not  quite  sure  whether  she  was  serious  or 

151 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

was  only  laughing  at  him,  but,  as  he  began  to 
explain,  she  burst  into  a  peal  of  merriment  over 
her  victory. 

In  appearance  she  was  like  her  mother,  only  he 
thought  her  fairer — as  fair  as  he  had  thought  her 
mother  in  the  days  of  his  first  devotion ;  and  her 
deeper  eyes  and  firmer  features  were  an  added 
beauty;  the  well-rounded  chin  was  his  own.  Her 
eyes,  deep  with  unfathomable  depths,  and  mouth, 
firm  even  with  its  delicate  beauty,  had  come  from 
some  ancestor  or  ancestress  who  in  some  genera 
tion  past  had  faced  life  in  its  most  exacting  form 
with  undaunted  resolution,  and,  haply,  had  faced 
death  with  equal  calm  for  some  belief  that  now 
would  scarcely  have  given  an  hour's  questioning. 
So,  when  she  grew  each  year,  developing  new  powers 
and  charm  and  constancy,  he  began  to  find  a  new 
interest  in  life,  and  to  make  her  more  his  companion 
and  confidante  than  he  had  ever  made  her  mother. 
He  left  his  business  oftener  to  see  her  than  he  had 
left  it  to  see  her  mother;  he  took  her  oftener  with 
him  on  his  trips,  and  took  more  trips,  that  he 
might  have  her  company.  She  sat  at  the  head  of 
his  table,  and  filled  her  place  with  an  ability  that 
was  at  once  his  astonishment  and  his  pride. 

At  one  time,  as  she  changed  from  a  mere  child 
to  a  young  girl,  he  had  thought  of  marrying  again, 

152 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

rather  with  a  view  to  giving  her  a  guide  and  coun 
sellor  than  for  any  other  purpose.  Her  stormi- 
ness,  however,  at  the  mere  suggestion,  and  much 
more,  her  real  grief,  had  led  him  to  defer  the  plan 
from  time  to  time,  until  now  she  was  a  young  lady, 
and  he  could  see  for  himself  that  she  needed 
neither  chaperon  nor  counsellor.  He  sometimes 
smiled  to  think  what  the  consequences  would  have 
been  had  he  taken  to  wife  the  soft,  kindly,  rather 
commonplace  lady  whom  he  had  once  thought  of 
as  his  daughter's  guardian.  A  domestic  fowl  in 
the  clutches  of  a  young  eagle  would  have  had  an 
easier  time. 

One  phase  alone  in  her  development  had  puz 
zled  and  baffled  him.  She  had  gone  off  one  spring 
to  a  country  neighborhood  in  another  State,  where 
she  had  some  old  relatives  on  her  mother's  side. 
Mr.  Leigh  had  been  called  to  Europe  on  business, 
and  she  had  remained  there  until  well  into  the 
summer.  When  she  returned  she  was  not  the 
same.  Some  change  had  taken  place  in  her.  She 
had  gone  away  a  rollicking,  gay,  pleasure-loving, 
and  rather  selfish  young  girl — he  was  obliged  to 
admit  that  she  was  both  wilful  and  self-indulgent. 
Even  his  affection  for  her  could  not  blind  his  eyes 
to  this,  and  at  times  it  had  given  him  much  con 
cern,  for  at  times  there  was  a  clash  in  which,  if  he 

153 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

came  off  victor,  he  felt  it  was  at  a  perilous  price — 
that,  possibly,  of  a  strain  on  her  obedience.  She 
returned  a  full-grown  woman,  thoughtful  and 
self-sacrificing  and  with  an  aim — he  was  glad  it 
was  not  a  mission — and  as  her  aim  was  to  be  use 
ful,  and  she  began  with  him,  he  accepted  it  with 
contentment.  She  talked  freely  of  her  visit; 
spoke  warmly,  and,  indeed,  enthusiastically,  of 
those  she  had  met  there.  Among  these  were  a 
young  country  preacher  and  a  friend  of  his,  a 
young  Jew.  But,  though  she  spoke  of  both  with 
respect,  the  praise  she  accorded  them  was  so  equal 
that  he  dismissed  from  his  mind  the  possibility  that 
she  could  have  been  seriously  taken  with  either  of 
them.  Possibly,  the  Jew  was  the  one  she  was 
most  enthusiastic  over,  but  she  spoke  of  him  too 
openly  to  cause  her  father  disquietude.  Besides, 
he  was  a  Jew. 

The  preacher  she  plainly  respected  most  highly, 
yet  her  account  of  his  appearance  was  too  humor 
ous  to  admit  a  serious  feeling  for  him,  even  though 
she  had  gotten  him  called  to  be  one  of  Doctor 
Capon's  assistants. 

What  had  happened  was  that  the  girl,  who  had 
only  "lain  in  the  lilies  and  fed  on  the  roses  of 
life,"  had  suddenly  been  dropped  in  an  out-of- 
the-way  corner  hi  a  country  neighborhood  in  an 

154 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

old  State,  where  there  were  neither  lilies  nor  roses 
of  the  metaphorical  kind,  though  a  sufficiency  of 
the  real  and  natural  kind,  with  which  nature  in 
compensatory  mood  atones  to  those  who  have  of 
the  metaphorical  sort  but  thistles  and  brambles 
and  flinty  soil. 

When  she  first  landed  there,  after  the  very  first 
excitement  of  being  thrown  into  a  wholly  new 
situation,  among  strangers  whom,  though  her 
relatives,  she  had  always  regarded  much  as  she 
had  regarded  geographical  places  in  distant  lands, 
was  over,  she  found  herself,  as  it  were,  at  a  loss 
for  occupation.  Everything  was  so  quiet  and 
calm.  She  felt  lost  and  somewhat  bored.  But 
after  a  little  time  she  found  occupation  in  small 
things,  as  on  looking  closely  she  discovered 
beauties  in  nature  which  her  first  glance  had 
failed  to  catch.  The  people  appeared  so  novel,  so 
simple,  so  wholly  different  from  all  whom  she  had 
known;  the  excitements  and  amusements  and 
interests  of  her  life  in  the  city,  or  at  summer 
watering-places,  or  in  travelling,  were  not  only 
unknown  to  them — as  unknown  as  if  they  were  in 
another  planet — but  were  matters  of  absolute  in 
difference.  Their  interest  was  in  their  neighbors, 
in  the  small  happenings  about  them;  and  occur 
rences  an  hundred  miles  away  were  as  distant  to 

155 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

them  as  though  they  had  taken  place  in  another 
era.  Among  the  few  notabilities  in  this  rural  com 
munity  was  a  young  clergyman  whom  she  always 
heard  spoken  of  with  respect — as  much  respect, 
indeed,  as  if  he  had  been  a  bishop.  What  "Mr. 
Marvel  thought"  and  what  he  said  was  referred 
to,  or  was  quoted  as  something  to  be  considered 
— so  much  so  that  she  had  insensibly  formed  a 
picture  in  her  own  mind  of  a  quite  remarkable 
looking  and  impressive  person.  When,  at  last,  she 
met  John  Marvel,  what  was  her  amusement  to 
discover,  in  place  of  her  young  Antinous,  a  stout, 
strapping  young  fellow,  with  rather  bristly  hair, 
very  near-sighted  and  awkward,  and  exceedingly 
shy,  a  person  as  far  from  a  man  of  the  world  as 
a  stout,  country-bred  cart-horse  would  be  from 
a  sleek  trick-pony.  His  timidity  in  her  presence 
caused  her  endless  amusement,  and  for  lack  of 
some  better  diversion  and  partly  to  scandalize 
her  staid  kinswomen,  she  set  herself  to  tease  him 
in  every  way  that  her  fertile  brain  could  devise. 

Visiting  the  young  clergyman  at  the  time,  was 
a  friend  who  came  much  nearer  being  in  appear 
ance  what  Eleanor  had  imagined  John  Marvel  to 
be:  a  dark,  slender  young  man  with  a  classical 
face,  but  that  its  lines  were  stronger  and  more 
deeply  graven,  and  unforgettable  eyes.  He  had 

156 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

just  come  to  visit  Mr.  Marvel  and  to  get  a  needed 
rest,  John  Marvel  said.  He  had  been  a  worker 
among  the  poor,  and  his  views  were  so  different 
from  any  that  Eleanor  Leigh  had  ever  heard  as  to 
appear  almost  shocking.  He  was  an  educated 
man,  yet  he  had  lived  and  worked  as  an  artisan. 
He  was  a  gentleman,  yet  he  denounced  vehemently 
the  conditions  which  produced  the  upper  class. 
But  an  even  greater  surprise  awaited  her  when 
he  announced  that  he  was  a  Jew. 

When  John  Marvel  brought  his  friend  to  see 
Miss  Eleanor  Leigh,  the  first  impression  that  she 
received  was  one  of  pleasure.  He  was  so  striking 
and  unusual  looking — with  deep,  burning  eyes 
under  dark  brows.  Then  she  was  not  sure  that 
she  liked  him,  she  even  thought  she  was  sensible 
of  a  sort  of  repulsion.  She  had  a  feeling  as  if  he 
were  weighing  her  in  his  mind  and,  not  approving 
of  her,  treated  her  at  times  with  indifference,  at 
times  with  a  certain  disdain.  She  was  conscious 
of  an  antagonism  as  Wolffert  showed  scorn  of 
conditions  and  things  which  she  had  been  brought 
up  to  believe  almost  as  much  a  necessary  part  of 
life  as  air  and  light.  She  promptly  began  to  argue 
with  him,  but  when  she  found  that  he  usually  had 
the  best  of  the  argument,  she  became  more  care 
ful  how  she  opened  herself  to  his  attack.  He 

157 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

aroused  in  her  the  feeling  of  opposition.  His  scorn 
of  the  money-making  spirit  of  the  day  led  her  to 
defend  what  she  secretly  held  in  contempt.  And 
once  when  he  had  been  inveighing  against  com 
mercialism  that  set  up  Gods  of  Brass  to  worship, 
and  declared  that  it  was  the  old  story  of  Nebu 
chadnezzar  over  again — and  was  the  forerunner 
to  brotherhood  with  the  beasts  of  the  field,  she 
wheeled  on  him,  declaring  that  it  was  "only  peo 
ple  who  had  no  power  to  make  money  who  held 
such  views." 

"Do  you  think  that  I  could  not  make  money  if 
I  wished  to  do  so?"  said  Wolffert  quietly,  with  an 
amused  light  in  his  eyes  as  they  rested  on  her 
with  an  expression  which  was  certainly  not  hos 
tile;  for  her  eagerness  had  brought  warm  blood 
to  her  cheeks  and  her  eyes  were  sparkling  with 
the  glow  of  contention. 

"Yes,  if  you  were  able  you  would  be  as  rich  as 
a  Jew." 

A  yet  more  amused  look  came  into  Wolffert's 
eyes. 

"Are  all  Jews  rich?"  he  asked. 

"Yes — all  who  are  capable — you  know  they 


are." 


"No,  for  I  am  a  Jew  and  I  am  not  rich,"  said 
Wolffert. 

158 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

"What!  You!— You  a-  Oh,  I  beg  your 
pardon!  I — "  she  blushed  deeply. 

"Pray  don't  apologize — don't  imagine  that  I 
am  offended.  Would  you  be  offended  if  I  charged 
you  with  coming  from  a  race  of  poets  and  philoso 
phers  and  scientists — of  a  race  that  had  given  the 
world  its  literature  and  its  religion?" 

She  burst  out  laughing. 

"No;  but  I  was  such  a  fool — pray  forgive  me." 
She  held  out  her  hand  and  Wolffert  took  it  and 
pressed  it  firmly — and  this  was  the  beginning  of 
their  friendship. 

Wolffert  walked  home  slowly  that  evening,  that 
is,  across  the  fields  to  the  little  farmhouse  where 
John  Marvel  lived.  He  had  food  for  thought. 

When  Eleanor  Leigh  saw  John  Marvel  a  few 
days  later  she  told  him  of  her  conversation  and 
the  speech  she  had  made  to  his  friend.  "You 
know,"  said  John,  "that  he  is  rich  or  could  be,  if 
he  chose  to  go  home.  His  father  is  very  rich." 

"He  is  a  new  Jew  to  me,"  said  Eleanor  Leigh; 
"he  is  quite  different  from  the  typical  Jew." 

"I  wonder  if  there  is  a  typical  Jew,"  questioned 
John  to  himself,  and  this  set  Eleanor  wondering 
too. 

But  Eleanor  Leigh  found  other  causes  for  won 
der  in  Wolffert  besides  the  salient  fact  of  his  race 

159 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

which  she  had  mentioned  to  her  cousins,  and  they 
forced  upon  her  the  consciousness  that  she  would 
have  to  readjust  her  ideas  of  many  things  as  she 
had  been  compelled  to  do  in  regard  to  the  appear 
ance  and  aims  of  this  singular  people.  Her  idea 
of  the  Israelites  had  always  been  curiously  con 
noted  with  hooked  noses,  foreign  speech  of  a  far 
from  refined  type,  and  a  persistent  pursuit  of 
shekels  by  ways  generally  devious  and  largely 
devoted  to  shops  containing  articles  more  or  less 
discarded  by  other  people.  Here  she  found  a  cul 
tivated  gentleman  with  features,  if  not  wholly 
classical,  at  least  more  regular  and  refined  than 
those  of  most  young  men  of  her  acquaintance; 
speech  so  cultivated  as  to  be  quite  distinguished, 
and  an  air  and  manner  so  easy  and  gracious  as  to 
suggest  to  her  complete  knowledge  of  the  great 
world.  No  matter  what  subject  was  discussed 
between  them,  he  knew  about  it  more  than  any 
one  else,  and  always  threw  light  on  it  which  gave 
a  new  interest  for  her.  He  had  a  knowledge  of 
the  literature  and  art,  not  only  of  the  ancients, 
but  of  most  modern  nations,  and  he  talked  to  her 
of  things  of  which  she  had  never  so  much  as  heard. 
He  had  not  only  travelled  extensively  in  Europe, 
but  had  travelled  in  a  way  to  give  him  an  intimate 
knowledge  not  merely  of  the  countries,  but  of  the 

160 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

people  and  customs  of  the  countries  which  no  one 
she  had  ever  met  possessed.  He  had  crossed  in 
the  steerage  of  ocean-liners  more  than  once  and 
had  stoked  across  both  to  England  and  the 
Mediterranean. 

"But  what  made  you  do  it?"  she  asked.  "Did 
not  you  find  it  terrible?" 

"Yes — pretty  bad."  Wolffert  was  at  the  mo 
ment  showing  her  how  tea  was  made  in  certain 
provinces  along  the  Caspian  Sea  which  he  had 
visited  not  long  before.  "About  as  bad  as  it 
could  be." 

"Then  what  made  you  do  it?" 

"Well,  I  saved  money  by  it,  too." 

What  the  other  reason  was  she  did  not  press  him 
to  give.  She  only  thought,  "That  is  the  Jew  of  it." 
But  after  she  had  seen  more  of  him  she  discovered 
that  the  other  reason  was  that  he  might  learn  by 
personal  experience  what  the  condition  was  in  the 
emigrant  ships  and  the  holes  where  the  stokers 
lived  down  deep  amid  the  coal-bunkers  and  the 
roaring  furnaces,  and  further,  that  he  might  know 
the  people  themselves.  Incidentally,  he  had 
learned  there  and  elsewhere  Italian  and  Russian, 
with  the  strange  Hebraic  faculty  of  absorbing 
whatever  he  came  in  touch  with,  but  he  thought 
no  more  of  knowing  that  than  of  knowing  Yiddish. 

161 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

It  was  this  study  of  conditions  that  finally  gave 
her  the  key  to  his  design  in  life,  for  it  developed 
as  their  acquaintance  grew  that  this  clear-headed, 
cultivated,  thoughtful  man  held  strange  views  as 
to  the  ordinary  things  of  life,  the  things  which  she 
had  always  accepted  as  as  fundamental  and  un 
changeable  as  the  solid  earth  or  the  vaguely  com 
prehended  but  wholly  accepted  revolution  of  the 
spheres.  In  fact,  he  held  that  the  conditions  of 
modern  life,  the  relations  of  people  in  mass,  which 
she  had  somehow  always  considered  as  almost 
perfect  and,  indeed,  divinely  established,  were 
absolutely  outworn  and  fundamentally  unright 
eous  and  unjust.  She  at  first  did  not  take  him 
seriously.  She  could  not.  To  find  a  pleasant 
and,  indeed,  rather  eloquent-spoken  young  man 
denounce  as  wicked  and  vile  usurpation  the  es 
tablishment  of  competitive  enterprises,  and  the 
accumulation  of  capital  by  captains  of  industry, 
appeared  to  her  almost  impious.  Yet,  there  he 
sat  with  burning  eyes  and  thrilling  voice  denounc 
ing  the  very  things  she  had  always  considered 
most  commendable.  "Why,  that  is  socialism, 
isn't  it?"  she  asked,  feeling  that  if  she  could  con 
vict  him  of  this  somewhat  vaguely  comprehended 
term  she  would  prove  her  old  foundations  un 
shaken. 

162 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

Wolffert  smiled.  He  was  very  good-looking 
when  he  smiled.  "No,  not  exactly — if  it  is,  it 
is  only  an  elementary  and  individual  kind  of 
socialism;  but  it  is  socialism  so  far  as  it  is  based 
on  a  profound  desire  to  reconstruct  society  and  to 
place  it  on  a  natural  and  equitable  social  founda 
tion  where  every  one  shall  have  a  chance  to  work 
and  to  reap  the  fruit  of  such  work." 

"What  is  socialism?"  she  demanded  suddenly. 

"It  is  not  what  you  mean  by  the  term,"  he 
laughed.  "It  is  not  taking  the  property  of  those 
who  have  worked  for  it  and  giving  to  those  who 
neither  have  worked  nor  will  work — that  is  what 
you  have  in  mind." 

"Precisely,"  she  nodded. 

"It  is — at  least,  the  socialism  I  mean — the 
application  of  the  same  method  of  general  order 
by  the  people  at  large  to  labor  and  the  product 
of  labor:  property — that  is  now  employed  hi 
government.  The  reconstruction  of  the  present 
methods  so  that  all  should  participate  both  in  the 
labor,  and  in  the  product."  He  went  on  to  pict 
ure  glowingly  the  consequences  of  this  Utopian 
scheme  when  all  men  should  work  and  all  should 
reap.  But  though  he  made  it  appear  easy  enough 
to  him,  Eleanor  Leigh's  practical  little  head  saw 
the  difficulties  and  the  flaws  much  more  readily 

163 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

than  the  perfect  result  which  he  appeared  to  find 
so  certain. 

"You  cannot  reconstruct  human  nature,"  she 
protested,  "and  when  you  shall  have  gotten  your 
system  thoroughly  under  way,  those  who  have 
gotten  in  positions  of  power  will  use  their  advan 
tage  for  their  own  benefit,  and  then  you  will  still 
have  to  begin  all  over  again."  But  Wolffert  was 
certain  of  the  result  and  pointed  out  the  work  of 
his  friend  John  Marvel  as  a  proof  of  his  theory. 

While,  at  first,  the  broad-shouldered  young 
clergyman  fled  from  her  presence  with  a  precipita 
tion  which  was  laughable,  it  was  not  long  before 
he  appeared  to  have  steeled  himself  sufficiently 
against  her  shafts  of  good-natured  persiflage  to  be 
able  to  tolerate  her  presence,  and  before  a  great 
while  had  passed,  her  friends  began  to  tease  her 
on  the  fact  that  wherever  she  went  Mr.  Marvel 
was  pretty  sure  to  appear.  One  of  her  old  cousins, 
half-rallyingly  and  half-warningly,  cautioned  her 
against  going  too  far  with  the  young  man,  saying, 
"Mr.  Marvel,  my  dear,  is  too  good  a  man  for  you 
to  amuse  yourself  with,  and  then  fling  away. 
What  is  simply  the  diversion  of  an  hour  for  you, 
may  become  a  matter  of  real  gravity  with  him. 
He  is  already  deeply  interested  in  you  and  unless 

you  are  interested  in  him 

164 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

"Why,  I  am  interested  in  him,"  declared  the 
girl,  laughing.  "Why,  he  tells  me  of  all  the  old 
sick  women  and  cats  in  the  parish,  and  I  have  an 
engagement  to  go  around  with  him  and  see  some 
old  women  to-morrow.  You  ought  to  see  some 
that  we  went  to  visit  the  other  day!" 

-  "I  know,  my  dear,  but  you  must  not  make  fun 
of  his  work.  He  is  happy  in  it  and  is  accomplish 
ing  a  great  deal  of  good,  and  if  you  should  get  him 
dissatisfied " 

"Oh,  no,  indeed;  I  gave  him  some  money  last 
week  for  a  poor  family  to  get  some  clothes  so  that 
they  could  come  to  church.  They  were  named 
Banyan.  They  live  near  the  mines.  The  whole 
family  were  to  be  christened  next  Sunday,  and 
what  do  you  suppose  they  did?  As  soon  as  they 
got  the  clothes  they  went  last  Sunday  to  a  big 
baptizing  and  were  all  immersed!  I  was  teasing 
him  about  that  when  you  heard  me  laughing  at 
him." 

"The  wretches!"  exclaimed  her  cousin.  "To 
think  of  their  deceiving  him  so!" 

"I  know,"  said  the  girl.  "But  I  think  he 
minded  the  deception  much  more  than  the  other. 
Though  I  charged  him  with  being  disappointed 
at  not  getting  them  into  his  fold,  really,  I  don't 
think  he  minded  it  a  bit.  At  least,  he  said  he 

165 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

would  much  rather  they  had  gone  where  they 
would  be  happy." 

"Now,  Mr.  Marvel's  friend,  Mr.  Wolffert,  is  a 
different  matter.  He  appears  quite  able  to  take 
care  of  himself." 

"Quite,"  said  Miss  Leigh  dryly. 

"But,  my  dear,"  said  her  cousin,  lowering  her 
voice,  "they  say  he  is  a  Jew." 

"He  is,"  said  Eleanor. 

"You  know  it?" 

"Yes,  he  told  me  so  himself." 

"Told  you  himself!  Why,  I  thought—!  How 
did  he  come  to  tell  you?" 

"Why,  I  don't  know.  We  were  talking  and  I 
said  something  foolish  about  the  Jews — about 
some  one  being  'as  rich  and  stingy  as  a  Jew/  and 
he  smiled  and  said,  'Are  all  Jews  rich — and  stingy? ' 
And  I  said,  'If  they  have  a  chance,'  and  he  said, 
'Not  always.  I  am  a  Jew  and  I  am  not  rich.' 
Well,  I  thought  he  was  fooling,  just  teasing  me — 
so  I  went  on,  and  do  you  know  he  is  not  only  a 
Jew,  but  Mr.  Marvel  says  he  is  rich,  only  he  does 
not  claim  his  money  because  he  is  a  socialist. 
Mr.  Marvel  says  he  could  go  home  to-morrow  and 
his  father  would  take  him  and  lavish  money  on 
him;  but  he  works — works  all  the  time  among  the 
poor." 

166 


ELEANOR  LEIGH 

"Well,  I  must  say  I  always  liked  him,"  said  her 
cousin. 

"But  he  isn't  such  good  fun  to  tease  as  Mr.  Mar 
vel — he  is  too  intense.  Mr.  Marvel  does  get  so 
red  and  unhappy-looking  when  he  is  teased." 

"Well,  you  have  no  right  to  tease  him.  He  is 
a  clergyman  and  should  be  treated  with  respect. 
You  wouldn't  dare  to  tease  your  rector  in  town — 
the  great  Doctor  —  What  is  his  name?  " 

"Oh!  wouldn't  I?  Doctor  Bartholomew  Capon. 
Why,  he  is  one  of  the  greatest  beaux  in  town. 
He's  always  running  around  to  see  some  girl — 
ogling  them  with  his  big  blue  eyes." 

"Eleanor!"  exclaimed  her  cousin  reprovingly. 

"Why,  he'd  marry  any  one  of  the  Canter  girls 
who  would  have  him,  or  Aunt  Sophia,  or " 

"Eleanor,  don't  be  profane." 

The  old  lady  looked  so  shocked  that  the  girl  ran 
over  and  kissed  her,  with  a  laugh. 

"Why,  I've  told  him  so." 

"Told  him?    You  haven't!" 

"Yes,  I  have.  I  told  him  so  when  he  tried  to 
marry  me.  Then  he  tried  Aunt  Sophia." 

"What!  Eleanor,  you  are  incorrigible.  You 
really  are.  But  do  tell  me  about  it.  Did  he 
really  court  you?  Why,  he's  old  enough  to  be 
your " 

167 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Grandfather,"  interrupted  the  girl.  "That's 
what  I  told  him,  substantially." 

"Served  him  right,  too.  But  he  must  be  a  fine 
preacher  from  what  my  old  friend,  Pansy  Tipps, 
once  wrote  me.  Did  you  ever  meet  Pansy  Tipps? 
She  and  her  sister  live  in  your  city.  They  went 
there  years  ago  to  press  a  claim  they  had  to  a  large 
fortune  left  them  by  their  father,  Colonel  Tipps, 
who  used  to  be  a  very  rich  man,  but  left  his  affairs 
somewhat  complicated,  I  gather  from  what  Pansy 
writes  me,  or  did  write,  for  she  does  not  write  very 
often  now.  I  wish  you'd  go  and  see  them  when 
you  go  back." 

"I  will,"  said  Eleanor.    "Where  do  they  live?" 

"At  a  Mrs.  Kale's — she  keeps  a  boarding-house 
— I  don't  know  the  exact  location,  and  mislaid 
Pansy's  letter  a  year  or  more  ago,  but  you  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  finding  it.  It  must  be  in  the 
fashionable  quarter  and  I  should  think  any  one 
could  tell  you  where  she  lives." 

"I  will  find  her,"  said  Eleanor,  laughing. 


168 


XII 

JOHN  MARVEL 

,  a  little  later,  a  scourge  of  diphtheria 
broke  out  in  a  little  mining  camp  not  far 
from  the  home  of  Miss  Leigh's  relatives  and  she 
learned  that  John  Marvel  spent  all  his  time  nurs 
ing  the  sick  and  relieving  their  necessities  as  far 
as  possible,  she  awakened  to  a  realization  of  the 
truth  of  what  her  cousin  had  said,  that  under  his 
awkward  exterior  lay  a  mine  of  true  gold. 

Day  by  day  reports  came  of  the  spread  of  the 
deadly  pestilence,  making  inroads  in  every  fam 
ily,  baffling  the  skill  and  outstripping  the  utmost 
efforts  of  the  local  physician;  day  by  day  the 
rumor  came  that  wherever  illness  appeared  there 
was  John  Marvel. 

One  afternoon  Miss  Leigh,  who  had  ridden  over 
in  the  direction  of  the  mining  village  to  try  and 
get  some  information  about  the  young  clergyman, 
who,  a  rumor  said,  had  been  stricken  himself  the 
day  before,  came  on  him  suddenly  in  a  by-path 
among  the  hills.  At  sight  of  her  he  stopped  and 

169 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

held  up  his  hand  in  warning,  and  at  the  warning 
she  reined  in  her  horse. 

"Don't  come  nearer,"  he  called  to  her. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  asked.  "How  are 
you?"  For  even  at  that  distance — perhaps,  some 
fifty  paces — she  could  see  that  he  looked  wretch 
edly  worn  and  wan. 

"Oh,  I'm  doing  very  well,"  he  replied.  "How 
are  you?  You  must  not  come  this  way!  Turn 
back!" 

She  began  to  rein  her  horse  around  and  then, 
on  a  sudden,  as  his  arm  fell  to  his  side,  and,  step 
ping  a  little  out  of  the  path,  he  leaned  against  a 
tree,  the  whole  situation  struck  her.  Wheeling 
her  horse  back,  she  rode  straight  up  to  him  though 
he  stiffened  up  and  waved  her  back. 

"You  are  ill,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  no.  I  am  not  ill,  I  am  only  a  bit  tired; 
that  is  all.  You  must  not  come  this  way — go 
back!" 

"But  why?"  she  persisted,  sitting  now  close 
above  him. 

"Because — because — there  is  sickness  here.  A 
family  there  is  down."  He  nodded  back  toward 
the  curve  around  which  he  had  just  come.  "The 
Banyan  family  are  all  ill,  and  I  am  just  going  for 
help." 

170 


JOHN  MARVEL 

"I  will  go — I,  at  least,  can  do  that.  What 
help?  What  do  you  want?" 

She  had  tightened  the  rein  on  her  horse  and 
turned  his  head  back. 

"Everything.  The  mother  and  three  children 
are  all  down;  the  father  died  a  few  days  ago. 
Send  the  doctor  and  anything  that  you  can  find 
— food — clothing — medicine — some  one  to  nurse 
them — if  you  can  find  her.  It  is  the  only 
chance." 

"I  will."  She  hesitated  a  moment  and  looked 
down  at  him,  as  if  about  to  speak,  but  he  waved 
her  off.  "Go,  you  must  not  stay  longer." 

He  had  moved  around  so  that  the  wind,  instead 
of  blowing  from  him  toward  her,  blew  from  the 
other  side  of  her. 

A  moment  later  Eleanor  Leigh  was  galloping 
for  life  down  the  steep  bridle-path.  It  was  a 
breakneck  gait,  and  the  path  was  rough  enough 
to  be  perilous,  but  she  did  not  heed  it.  It  was  the 
first  time  in  all  her  life  that  she  had  been  conscious 
that  she  could  be  of  real  use.  She  felt  that  she  was 
galloping  in  a  new  world.  From  house  to  house 
she  rode,  but  though  all  were  sympathetic,  there 
was  no  one  to  go.  Those  who  might  have  gone, 
were  elsewhere — or  were  dead.  The  doctor  was 
away  from  home  attending  at  other  bedsides  and, 

171 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

by  the  account  given,  had  been  working  night  and 
day  until  he  could  scarcely  stand.  Riding  to  the 
nearest  telegraph  station,  the  girl  sent  a  despatch 
to  a  doctor  whom  she  knew  in  the  city  where  she 
lived,  begging  him  to  come  or  to  send  some  one 
on  the  first  train  and  saying  that  he  would  be 
met  and  that  she  would  meet  all  his  expenses. 
Then  she  sat  down  and  wrote  a  note  to  her 
cousin.  And  two  hours  later,  just  as  the  dusk 
was  falling,  she  rode  up  to  the  door  of  a  country 
cabin  back  among  the  hills.  As  she  softly  pushed 
open  the  door,  with  her  arm  full  of  bundles,  a 
form  rose  from  the  side  of  a  bed  and  stood  before 
her  in  the  dusk  of  the  room. 

"My  God!  you  must  not  come  in  here.  Why 
have  you  come  here?" 

"To  help  you,"  said  the  girl. 

"But  you  must  not  come  in.  Go  out.  You 
must,"  said  John  Marvel. 

"No,  I  have  come  to  stay.  I  could  not  live  if 
I  did  not  stay  now."  She  pushed  her  way  in. 
"Here  are  some  things  I  have  brought.  I  have 
telegraphed  for  a  doctor." 

It  was  long  before  she  could  satisfy  John 
Marvel,  but  she  stayed,  and  all  that  night  she 
worked  with  him  over  the  sick  and  the  dying. 
All  that  night  they  two  strove  to  hold  Death  at 

172 


JOHN  MARVEL 

bay,  across  those  wretched  beds.  Once,  indeed, 
he  had  struck  past  their  guard  and  snatched  a 
life ;  but  they  had  driven  him  back  and  saved  the 
others.  Ere  morning  came  one  of  the  children  had 
passed  away;  but  the  mother  and  the  other  chil 
dren  survived;  and  Eleanor  Leigh  knew  that 
John  Marvel,  now  on  his  knees,  now  leaning  over 
the  bed  administering  stimulants,  had  saved  them. 

As  Eleanor  Leigh  stepped  out  into  the  morning 
light,  she  looked  on  a  new  earth,  as  fair  as  if  it 
had  just  been  created,  and  it  was  a  new  Eleanor 
Leigh  who  gazed  upon  it.  The  tinsel  of  frivolity 
had  shrivelled  and  perished  in  the  fire  of  that 
night.  Sham  had  laid  bare  its  shallow  face  and 
fled  away.  Life  had  taken  on  reality.  She  had 
seen  a  man,  and  thenceforth  only  a  man  could 
command  her. 

The  physician  came  duly,  sent  up  by  the  one 
she  had  telegraphed  to;  rode  over  to  the  Banyan 
house,  and  later  to  the  village,  where  he  pro 
nounced  the  disease  diphtheria  and  the  cause 
probably  defective  drainage  and  consequent  im 
pregnation  of  the  water  supply;  wrote  a  prescrip 
tion,  commended  the  country  doctor,  returned 
home,  and  duly  charged  nearly  half  as  much  as 
the  country  doctor  got  in  a  year,  which  Miss 
Leigh  duly  paid  with  thoughts  of  John  Marvel. 

173 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

This  was  what  made  the  change  in  the  girl  which 
her  father  had  noted. 

No  novelist  can  give  all  of  a  hero's  or  a  heroine's 
life.  He  must  take  some  especial  phase  and  de 
velop  his  characters  along  that  line,  otherwise  he 
would  soon  overload  his  boat  and  swamp  his 
reader's  patience.  He  is  happy  who  having 
selected  his  path  of  action  does  not  wear  out  the 
reader  in  asking  him  to  follow  even  this  one  line. 
Thus,  it  is  possible  to  give  only  a  part  of  Miss 
Eleanor  Leigh's  relation  to  life,  and  naturally  the 
part  selected  is  that  which  had  also  its  relation  to 
John  Marvel. 

If  it  be  supposed  by  any  one  that  Miss  Eleanor 
Leigh  devoted  her  entire  time  and  thought  to 
working  among  the  poor  he  is  greatly  mistaken. 
John  Marvel  and  Leo  Wolffert  did  this ;  but  Miss 
Leigh  was  far  from  living  the  consecrated  life. 
She  only  made  it  a  part  of  her  life,  that  is  all,  and 
possibly  this  was  the  best  for  her  to  do.  The 
glimpse  which  she  got  at  the  death-bed  in  the 
Banyan  cottage  that  night  when  she  went  to  help 
John  Marvel  fight  death,  tore  the  veil  from  her 
eyes  and  gave  her  a  revelation  of  a  life  of  which 
she  had  never  dreamed  till  then,  though  it  lay  all 
about  her  in  its  tragic  nakedness;  but  while  it 
gave  her  pause  and  inspired  her  with  a  sincere 

174 


JOHN  MARVEL 

wish  to  help  the  poor — or,  possibly,  to  help  John 
Marvel  and  Leo  Wolffert,  it  did  not  change  her 
nature  or  make  her  a  missionary.  An  impulse, 
whatever  its  ultimate  action,  does  not  revolution 
ize.  She  still  retained  the  love  of  pleasure  natural 
to  all  young  creatures.  The  young  tree  shoots  up 
by  nature  into  the  sun.  She  still  took  part  in  the 
gay  life  about  her,  and,  if  possible,  found  a 
greater  zest  in  it  for  the  consciousness  that  she 
had  widened  her  horizon  and  discovered  more  in 
terests  outside  of  the  glittering  little  brazen  circle 
in  which  her  orbit  had  been  hitherto  confined. 
She  had  immediately  on  returning  home  inter 
ested  herself  to  secure  for  John  Marvel  an  invi 
tation  from  Dr.  Capon,  her  rector,  to  become  one 
of  his  assistants  and  take  charge  of  an  outlying 
chapel  which  he  had  built  in  the  poorest  district 
of  the  town,  moved  thereto  by  a  commendable 
feeling  that  the  poor  should  have  the  gospel 
preached  to  them  and  that  his  church  should  not 
allow  all  the  honors  to  go  to  other  churches,  par 
ticularly  that  of  Rome.  Dr.  Capon  prided  himself 
and  was  highly  esteemed  by  his  fellows — that  is, 
the  upper  officials,  clergy,  and  laity  alike — on  his 
ability  to  obtain  from  his  people  the  funds  needed 
to  extend  what  was  known  as  "the  work  of  the 
Parish,"  by  which  was  signified  mainly  the  con- 

175 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

struction  of  buildings,  additions  thereto,  embel 
lishments  thereof,  and  stated  services  therein,  and 
incidentally,  work  among  the  poor  for  whom  the 
buildings  were  supposed  to  have  been  planned. 
The  buildings  having  all  been  erected  and  paid 
for  and  due  report  and  laudation  thereof  having 
been  made,  it  was  found  rather  more  difficult  to 
fill  them  than  had  been  previously  anticipated. 
And  it  was  set  down  somewhat  to  the  perversity 
of  the  poor  that  they  refused  the  general  invi 
tation  extended  them  to  come  and  be  labelled  and 
patronized  with  words  and  smiles  quite  as  unctu 
ous  as  benignant. 

Dr.  Capon  had  not  the  reputation  of  getting 
on  quite  comfortably  with  his  assistants.  The  ex 
actions  of  his  type  of  success  had  made  him  a  busi 
ness  man.  As  his  power  of  organization  increased, 
spirituality  dwindled.  He  dealt  more  with  the 
rich  and  less  with  the  poor.  He  had  the  reputa 
tion  of  being  somewhat  exacting  in  his  demands 
on  them,  and  of  having  a  somewhat  overween 
ing  sense  of  his  own  importance  and  authority. 
Bright  young  men  either  declined  altogether  his 
suggestions  of  the  whiteness  of  the  harvest  in  the 
purlieus  of  the  city,  or,  having  been  led  into 
accepting  positions  under  him,  soon  left  him  for 
some  country  parish  or  less  imposing  curacy — an 

176 


JOHN  MARVEL 

exotic  word  which  the  doctor  himself  had  had 
something  to  do  with  importing  from  over  seas. 
It  thus  happened  that  his  chapel  recently  built  for 
the  poor  with  funds  elicited  from  Dr.  Capon's 
wealthy  parishioners  was  vacant  when  Miss 
Eleanor  Leigh  consulted  the  reverend  doctor  as 
to  a  good  church  for  a  peculiarly  good  young 
clergyman,  and  the  doctor  being  at  that  time  in 
his  second  mourning  and  likewise  in  that  state  of 
receptivity  incident  to  clerical  widowers  of  a  year 
and  a  half's  standing,  yielded  readily  to  his  fair 
parishioner's  solicitations,  and  the  position  was 
tendered  to  John  Marvel  and  after  some  hesitation 
was  accepted — his  chief  motive  being  that  his  old 
friend  Wolffert  was  there  doing  a  work  in  which  he 
had  greatly  interested  him.  If  the  fact  that  Miss 
Eleanor  Leigh  also  lived  in  that  city  influenced 
him,  it  would  simply  prove  that  John  Marvel, 
like  the  rest  of  humanity,  was  only  mortal.  The 
tender  was  made  without  the  usual  prelimi 
nary  examination  of  the  young  man  by  the 
doctor,  so  impressed  had  he  been  by  the  young 
girl's  enthusiastic  accounts  of  John  Marvel's  work 
and  influence  among  the  poor.  Thus  it  was  that, 
when  John  Marvel  finally  presented  himself,  the 
doctor  was  more  than  surprised  at  his  appearance 
— he  was,  indeed,  almost  shocked. 

177 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

The  doctor  was  not  only  fond  of  his  own  ap 
pearance — which  was  certainly  that  of  a  gentle 
man  and  a  very  well-fed  and  clerical-looking  one 
as  well — but  he  took  especial  pride  in  having 
his  assistants  also  good-looking  and  clerical.  He 
loved  to  march  in  processional  and  recessional  at 
the  end  of  a  stately  procession  with  two  or  three 
fine-looking  young  priests  marching  before  him. 
It  had  a  solemnizing  effect — it  made  the  church 
appear  something  important.  It  linked  him  with 
the  historic  and  Apostolic  Church  of  the  ages. 
With  the  swelling  organ  pouring  forth  its  strains 
to  soar  and  die  among  the  groined  arches  above 
him,  he  sometimes  felt  as  he  glanced  along  the  sur- 
pliced  line  before  him  as  if  he  were  borne  away, 
and  had  any  one  cried  to  him  from  the  side  he 
might  almost  have  been  able  to  heal  with  his 
blessing.  But  this  short,  broad,  bow-legged, 
near-sighted  man  in  his  shabby,  ill-fitting  clothes! 
Why,  it  would  never  do  to  have  him  about  him! 
He  would  mar  the  whole  harmony  of  the  scene. 
If  it  had  not  been  too  late  and  if  the  young  man 
had  not  had  such  a  potent  influence  behind  him, 
the  doctor  might  have  suggested  some  difficulties 
in  the  way  of  carrying  through  the  arrangements 
he  had  proposed;  but  though  Mrs.  Argand  and 
her  brother-in-law  were  understood  to  have  had 

178 


JOHN  MARVEL 

some  differences  over  certain  business  matters, 
she  was  very  fond  of  her  niece  and  she  was  the 
wealthiest  woman  who  came  to  his  church.  The 
doctor  reflected,  therefore,  that  he  need  not  have 
the  awkward  young  man  about  him  much;  and 
when  a  little  later  it  appeared  that  this  gawky 
young  man  was  filling  his  chapel  and  neighbor 
hood-house,  poor-club  and  night-schools  and  was 
sending  in  reports  which  showed  that  real  work 
was  being  done,  the  doctor  was  well  satisfied  to 
let  him  remain — so  well,  indeed,  that  he  never 
invited  him  to  his  house  socially,  but  only  held 
official  relations  with  him.  The  report  that  among 
John  Marvel's  chief  assistants  in  the  work  of  or 
ganizing  his  poor-clubs  and  night-school  was  a 
Jew  socialist  disturbed  the  doctor  slightly,  but  he 
reflected  that  when  one  showed  such  notable  re 
sults  it  was  in  a  way  necessary  to  employ  many 
curious  agencies,  and,  after  all,  the  association 
with  Jews  in  secular  affairs  was  a  matter  of  taste. 


179 


XIII 

MR.   LEIGH 

,  to  recur  to  the  period  of  my  arrival  in 
the  West — the  day  after  Miss  Leigh's  return 
home  her  father  paid  her  the  unusual  honor  of 
leaving  his  office  to  take  lunch  with  her. 

Her  mind  was  full  of  the  subject  of  the  paper 
she  had  read  in  the  press  that  morning,  giving  a 
lurid  picture  of  the  inconvenience  and  distress 
entailed  on  the  passengers  and  scoring  the  man 
agement  of  the  company  for  permitting  what  was 
claimed  to  be  "so  gross  a  breach  of  the  rights  of 
the  public." 

Ordinarily,  she  would  have  passed  it  over  with 
indifference — a  shrug  of  her  white  shoulders  and  a 
stamp  of  her  little  foot  would  have  been  all  the 
tribute  she  would  have  paid  to  it.  But  of  late  she 
had  begun  to  think. 

It  had  never  before  been  brought  so  clearly  to 
the  notice  of  the  girl  how  her  own  pleasures — not 
the  natural  but  the  created  pleasures — of  which 
she  was  quite  as  fond  as  other  healthy  girls  of  her 
age  and  class,  were  almost  exclusively  at  the  ex- 

180 


MR.  LEIGH 

pense  of  the  class  she  had  been  accustomed  to 
regard  with  a  general  sort  of  vague  sympathy  as 
"the  Poor." 

The  attack  on  her  father  and  herself  enraged 
her;  but,  as  she  cooled  down,  a  feeling  deeper  than 
mere  anger  at  an  injustice  took  possession  of  her 
mind. 

To  find  that  she  herself  had,  in  a  way,  been  the 
occasion  of  the  distress  to  women  and  children, 
startled  her  and  left  in  her  mind  a  feeling  of  un 
easiness  to  which  she  had  hitherto  been  a  stranger. 

" Father,"  she  began,  "did  you  see  that  dreadful 
article  in  The  Trumpet  this  morning?" 

Mr.  Leigh,  without  looking  up,  adopted  the 
natural  line  of  special  pleading,  although  he  knew 
perfectly  well  instantly  the  article  to  which  she 
referred. 

"What  article?"  he  asked. 

"That  story  about  our  having  delayed  the  pas 
senger  train  with  women  and  children  on  it  and 
then  having  side-tracked  them  without  breakfast, 
in  order  to  give  our  car  the  right  of  way." 

"  Oh !  yes.  I  believe  I  saw  that.  I  see  so  many 
ridiculous  things  in  the  newspapers,  I  pay  no 
attention  to  them." 

"But,  father,  that  was  a  terrible  arraignment," 
said  the  girl. 

181 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Of  whom?"  asked  Mr.  Leigh,  with  a  little 
twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"Why,  of  you,  of  Aunt  Sophia,  of " 

"Of  me!" 

"Yes,  and  of  me — of  everybody  connected  with 
the  road." 

"Not  of  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Leigh,  with  the 
light  of  affection  warming  up  his  rather  cold  face. 
"Surely  no  one,  even  the  anarchistic  writers  of  the 
anarchistic  press,  could  imagine  anything  to  say 
against  you." 

"Yes,  of  me,  too,  though  not  by  name,  perhaps; 
but  I  was  there  and  I  was  in  a  way  the  cause  of 
the  trouble,  because  the  car  was  sent  after  me  and 
Aunt  Sophia,  and  I  feel  terribly  guilty  about  it." 

"Guilty  of  what,  my  dear?"  smiled  her  father. 
"Of  simply  using  your  own  property  in  a  way 
satisfactory  to  you?" 

"That  is  just  it,  father;  that  is  the  point  which 
the  writer  raises.  Is  it  our  own  property?" 

"It  certainly  is,  my  love.  Property  that  I  have 
paid  for — my  associates  and  I — and  which  I  con 
trol,  or  did  control,  in  conjunction  with  the  other 
owners,  and  propose  to  control  to  suit  myself  and 
them  so  long  as  we  have  the  controlling  interest, 
every  socialistic  writer,  speaker,  and  striker  to  the 
contrary  notwithstanding." 

182 


MR.  LEIGH 

"Well,"  said  the  girl,  "that  sounds  all  right. 
It  looks  as  if  you  ought  to  be  able  to  do  what  you 
like  with  your  own;  but,  do  you  know,  father,  I 
am  not  sure  that  it  is  our  own.  That  is  just  the 
point — he  says 

' '  Oh,  nonsense ! "  said  her  father  lightly.  ' '  Don't 
let  this  Jew  go  and  fill  your  clear  little  head  with 
such  foolishness  as  that.  Enjoy  life  while  you 
can.  Make  your  mind  easy,  and  get  all  the  use 
you  can  out  of  what  I  have  amassed  for  you. 
I  only  hope  you  may  have  as  much  pleasure  in 
using  it  as  I  have  had  in  providing  it." 

The  banker  gazed  over  at  his  daughter  half 
quizzically,  half  seriously,  took  out  a  cigar, 
and  began  to  clip  the  end  leisurely.  The  girl 
laughed.  She  knew  that  he  had  something  on 
his  mind. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  she  asked,  smiling. 

He  gave  a  laugh.  "Don't  go  and  imagine  that 
because  that  Jew  can  write  he  is  any  the  less  a — 
don't  go  and  confound  him  and  his  work.  It  is 
the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  pick  flaws — to 
find  the  defects  in  any  system.  The  difficult  thing 
is  constructive  work." 

She  nodded. 

"Did  that  foreigner  go  down  there  while  you 
were  there?" 

183 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"The  count?" 

"The  no-count." 

"No,  of  course  not.  Where  did  you  get  such  an 
idea?" 

He  lighted  his  cigar  with  a  look  of  relief,  put  it 
in  his  mouth,  and  sat  back  in  his  chair. 

"Don't  let  your  Aunt  Sophia  go  and  make  a 
fool  of  you.  She  is  a  very  good  business  woman, 
but  you  know  she  is  not  exactly — Solomon,  and 
she  is  stark  mad  about  titles.  When  you  marry, 
marry  a  man." 

"Mr.  Canter,  for  example?"  laughed  the  girl. 
"He  is  Aunt  Sophia's  second  choice.  She  is 
always  talking  about  his  money." 

"She  is  always  talking  about  somebody's 
money,  generally  her  own.  But  before  I'd  let  that 
fellow  have  you  I'd  kill  him  with  my  own  hand. 
He's  the  worst  young  man  I  know.  Why,  if  I 
could  tell  you  half — yes,  one-tenth,  of  the  things 
I  have  heard  about  him —  But  I  can't  tell  you — 
only  don't  go  and  let  anybody  pull  the  wool  over 
your  eyes." 

"No  fear  of  that,"  said  the  girl. 

"No,  I  don't  know  that  there  is.  I  think 
you've  got  a  pretty  clear  little  head  on  your 
shoulders.  But  when  any  one  gets — gets — why, 
gets  her  feelings  enlisted  you  can't  just  count  on 

184 


MR.  LEIGH 

her,  you  know.  And  with  your  Aunt  Sophy  ding- 
donging  at  you  and  flinging  her  sleek  count  and 
her  gilded  fools  at  you,  it  takes  a  good  head  to 
resist  her." 

The  girl  reassured  him  with  a  smile  of  appre 
ciation. 

'  "I  don't  know  where  she  got  that  from,"  con 
tinued  her  father.  "It  must  have  been  that  out 
side  strain,  the  Prenders.  Your  mother  did  not 
have  a  trace  of  it  in  her.  I  never  saw  two  half- 
sisters  so  different.  She'd  have  married  anybody 
on  earth  she  cared  for — and  when  she  married  me 
I  had  nothing  in  the  world  except  what  my  father 
chose  to  give  me  and  no  very  great  expectations. 
She  had  a  rich  fellow  from  the  South  tagging  after 
her — &  big  plantation  and  lots  of  slaves  and  all 
that,  and  your  Aunt  Sophy  was  all  for  her  marry 
ing  him — a  good  chap,  too — a  gentleman  and  all 
that;  but  she  turned  him  down  and  took  me. 
And  I  made  my  own  way.  What  I  have  I  made 
afterward — by  hard  work  till  I  got  a  good  start, 
and  then  it  came  easy  enough.  The  trouble  since 
has  been  to  keep  others  from  stealing  it  from  me 
— and  that's  more  trouble  than  to  make  it,  I  can 
tell  you — what  between  strikers,  gamblers,  coun- 
cilmen,  and  other  knaves,  I  have  a  hard  time  to 
hold  on  to  what  I  have." 

185 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"I  know  you  have  to  work  very  hard,"  said  the 
girl,  her  eyes  on  him  full  of  affection.  "Why,  this 
is  the  first  time  I've  had  you  up  to  lunch  with  me 
in  months.  I  felt  as  much  honored  as  if  it  had 
been  the  King  of  England." 

"That's  it — I  have  to  stay  down  there  to  keep 
the  robbers  from  running  off  with  my  pile.  That 
young  fellow  thought  he'd  get  a  little  swipe  at  it, 
but  I  taught  him  a  thing  or  two.  He's  a  plunger. 
His  only  idea  is  to  make  good  by  doubling  up- 
all  right  if  the  market's  rising  and  you  can  double. 
But  it's  a  dangerous  game,  especially  if  one  tries 
to  recoup  at  the  faro  table." 

"Does  he  play  faro?"  asked  the  girl. 

"He  plays  everything,  mainly  Merry  H — 1.  I 
beg  your  pardon — I  didn't  mean  to  say  that 
before  you,  but  he  does.  And  if  his  father  didn't 
come  to  his  rescue  and  plank  up  every  time  he 
goes  broke,  he'd  have  been  in  the  bankrupt  court 
—or  jail — and  that's  where  he'll  wind  up  yet  if 
he  don't  look  out." 

"I  don't  believe  you  like  him,"  laughed  the  girl. 

"Oh!  yes,  I  do.  I  like  him  well  enough — he  is 
amusing  rather,  he  is  gay,  careless,  impudent- 
he's  the  main  conduit  through  which  I  extract 
money  from  old  Prender's  coffers.  He  never 
spends  anything  unless  you  pay  him  two  gold 

186 


MR.  LEIGH 

dollars  down  for  one  paper  one  on  the  spot.  But 
I  want  him  to  keep  away  from  you,  that's  all; 
I  suppose  I've  got  to  lose  you  some  time,  but  I'll 
be  hanged  if  I  want  to  give  you  up  to  a  black 
guard — a  gambler — a  rou — a  lib — a  d d  black 
guard  like  that." 

"Well,  you  will  never  have  that  to  do,"  said  the 
girl;  "I  promise  you  that." 

"How  is  the  strike  coming  on?"  asked  his 
daughter.  "When  I  went  away  it  was  just 
threatening,  and  I  read  in  the  papers  that  the 
negotiations  failed  and  the  men  were  ordered  out; 
but  I  haven't  seen  much  about  it  in  the  papers 
since,  though  I  have  looked." 

"Oh!  Yes — it's  going  on,  over  on  the  other 
lines  across  town,  in  a  desultory  sort  of  way," 
said  her  father  wearily — "the  fools!  They  won't 
listen  to  any  reason." 

"Poor  people!"  sighed  the  girl.  "Why  did  they 
go  out?" 

"Poor  fools!"  said  Mr.  Leigh  warmly;  "they 
walked  out  for  nothing  more  than  they  always 
have  had." 

"I  saw  that  they  had  some  cause;  what  was  it?" 

"Oh!  they've  always  some  cause.  If  they 
didn't  have  one  they'd  make  it.  Now  they  are 
talking  of  extending  it  over  our  lines." 

187 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Our  lines!    Why?" 

"Heaven  knows.  We've  done  everything  they 
demanded — in  reason.  They  talk  about  a  sym 
pathetic  strike.  I  hear  that  a  fellow  has  come  on 
to  bring  it  about.  Poor  fools!" 

The  girl  gave  him  a  smile  of  affection  as  he 
pushed  back  his  chair.  And  leaning  over  her  as 
he  walked  toward  the  door,  he  gave  her  a  kiss  of 
mingled  pride  and  affection.  But  when  he  had  left 
the  room  she  sat  still  for  some  moments,  looking 
straight  ahead  of  her,  her  brow  slightly  puckered 
with  thought  which  evidently  was  not  wholly 
pleasant,  and  then  with  a  sweeping  motion  of  her 
hand  she  pushed  her  chair  back,  and,  as  she  arose 
from  the  table,  said:  "I  wish  I  knew  what  is 
right!"  That  moment  a  new  resolution  entered 
her  mind,  and,  ringing  the  bell  for  the  servant,  she 
ordered  her  carriage. 


188 


XIV 

MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

OHE  drove  first  to  Dr.  Capon's  church  and, 
going  around,  walked  in  at  the  side  door  near 
the  east  end,  where  the  robing  rooms  and  the  rec 
tor's  study  were.  She  remembered  to  have  seen 
on  a  door  somewhere  there  a  sign  on  which  was 
painted  in  gilded  letters  the  fact  that  the  rector's 
office  hours  were  from  12  to  1  on  Mondays, 
Tuesdays,  and  Thursdays,  and  this  was  Thursday. 
The  hour,  however,  was  now  nearly  three,  and  she 
had  called  only  on  a  chance  of  catching  him,  a 
chance  which  a  stout  and  gloomy-looking  verger, 
who  appeared  from  somewhere  at  her  foot-fall, 
told  her  at  first  was  lost;  but  when  he  recognized 
her,  he  changed  his  air,  grew  quite  interested,  and 
said  he  would  see  if  the  doctor  was  in.  He  had 
been  there  he  knew  after  lunch,  but  he  might  have 
left.  He  entered  and  closed  the  door  softly  be 
hind  him,  leaving  the  girl  in  the  gloom,  but  a  mo 
ment  later  he  returned  and  showed  her  in.  The 
rector,  with  a  smile  of  unfeigned  pleasure  on  his 

189 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

face,  was  standing  just  beside  a  handsome  mahog 
any  writing  desk,  near  a  window,  awaiting  her 
entry,  and  he  greeted  her  with  cordiality. 

"Oh!  my  dear  young  lady,  come  in.  I  was  just 
about  going  off,  and  I'm  glad  I  happened  to  have 
lingered  a  little — getting  ready  to  launch  a  new 
year-book."  He  laid  his  fingers  on  a  batch  of 
printer's  proof  lying  on  the  desk  beside  a  stock 
bulletin.  "I  was  just  thinking  what  a  bore  it  is, 
and  lo!  it  turned  into  a  blessing  like  Balaam's 
curse.  What  can  I  do  for  you?"  The  rector's 
large  blue  eyes  rested  on  his  comely  parishioner 
with  a  spark  in  them  that  was  not  from  any  spirit 
ual  fire. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  the  girl  doubtfully. 

"I  see  you  were  at  the  grand  ball,  or  whatever 
it  was  last  night,  and  I  was  so  delighted  to  see  that 
it  was  for  a  charitable  object — and  the  particular 
object  which  I  saw." 

"Yes,  it  is  for  Mr.  Marvel's  work  out  among  the 
poor,"  said  Miss  Leigh.  The  rector's  expression 
changed  slightly. 

"Oh!  yes,  that  is  our  work.  You  know  that  is 
our  chapel.  I  built  it.  The  ball  must  have  been 
a  great  success.  It  was  the  first  knowledge  I  had 
that  you  and  your  dear  aunt  had  returned."  His 
voice  had  a  tone  of  faint  reproach  in  it. 

190 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"Yes,  we  returned  yesterday.  I  wish  the  papers 
would  leave  me  alone,"  she  added. 

" Ah!  my  dear  young  lady,  there  are  many  who 
would  give  a  great  deal  to  be  chronicled  by  the 
public  prints  as  you  are.  The  morning  and  even 
ing  star  is  always  mentioned  while  the  little 
asteroids  go  unnoticed." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  girl, 
"but  I  do  wish  the  papers  would  let  me  alone — • 
and  my  father  too." 

"Oh!  yes,  to  be  sure.  I  did  not  know  what 
you  were  referring  to.  That  was  an  outrageous 
attack.  So  utterly  unfounded,  too,  absolutely 
untrue.  Such  scurrilous  attacks  deserve  the 
reprobation  of  all  thinking  men." 

"The  trouble  is  that  the  attack  was  untrue; 
but  the  story  was  not  unfounded." 

"What!  What  do  you  mean?"  The  clergy 
man's  face  wore  a  puzzled  expression. 

"That  our  car  was  hitched  on  to  the  train " 

"And  why  shouldn't  it  be,  my  dear  young  lady? 
Doesn't  the  road  belong  to  your  father,  at  least 
to  your  family — and  those  whom  they  represent?" 

"I  don't  know  that  it  does,  and  that  is  one 
reason  why  I  have  come  to  see  you." 

"Of  course  it  does.  You  will  have  to  go  to  a 
lawyer  to  ascertain  the  exact  status  of  the  title; 

191 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

but  I  have  always  understood  it  does.  Why, 
your  aunt,  Mrs.  Argand,  owns  thousands  of  shares, 
doesn't  she,  and  your  father?"  A  grave  sus 
picion  suddenly  flitted  across  his  mind  relative  to 
a  rumor  he  had  heard  of  heavy  losses  by  Mr. 
Leigh  and  large  gains  by  Mr.  Canter,  the  president 
of  the  road,  and  his  associates  who,  according  to 
this  rumor,  were  hostile  to  Mr.  Leigh. 

"I  don't  know,  but  even  if  they  do,  I  am  not 
sure  that  that  makes  them  owners.  Did  you  read 
that  article?" 

"No — well,  not  all  of  it — I  glanced  over  a  part 
of  it,  enough  to  see  that  it  was  very  scurrilous, 
that's  all.  The  head-lines  were  simply  atrocious. 
The  article  itself  was  not  so  wickedly " 

"I  should  like  to  do  some  work  among  the  poor," 
said  the  girl  irrelevantly. 

"Why,  certainly — just  what  we  need — the  ear 
nest  interest  and  assistance  of  just  such  persons 
as  yourself,  of  your  class;  the  good,  earnest,  repre 
sentatives  of  the  upper  class.  If  we  had  all  like 
you  there  would  be  no  cry  from  Macedonia." 

"Well,  how  can  I  go  about  it?"  demanded  the 
girl, rather  cutting  in  on  the  rector's  voluble  reply. 

"Why,  you  can  teach  in  the  Sunday-school — 
we  have  a  class  of  nice  girls,  ladies,  you  know,  a 
very  small  one — and  I  could  make  my  superinten- 

192 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

dent  arrange  for  Miss — for  the  lady  who  now  has 
them  to  take  another  class — one  of  the  orphan 
classes." 

"No,  I  don't  mean  that  kind  of  thing.  If  I 
taught  at  all  I  should  like  to  try  my  hand  at  the 
orphan  class  myself." 

"Well,  that  could  be  easily  arranged — "  began 
the  rector;  but  his  visitor  kept  on  without  heeding 
him. 

"Only  I  should  want  to  give  them  all  different 
hats  and  dresses.  I  can't  bear  to  see  all  those 
poor  little  things  dressed  exactly  in  the  same  way 
— sad,  drab  or  gray  frocks,  all  cut  by  the  same 
pattern — and  the  same  hats,  year  in  and  year 
out." 

"Why,  they  have  new  hats  every  year,"  ex 
postulated  the  rector. 

"I  mean  the  same  kind  of  hat.  Tall  and  short; 
stout  and  thin;  slim  or  pudgy;  they  all  wear  the 
same  horrible,  round  hats — I  can't  bear  to  look 
at  them.  I  vow  I'd  give  them  all  a  different  hat 
for  Christmas." 

"Oh!  my  dear,  you  can't  do  that — you  would 
spoil  them — and  it's  against  the  regulations.  You 
must  remember  that  these  children  are  orphans!" 

"Being  orphans  is  bad  enough,"  declared  the 
girl,  "but  those  hats  are  worse.  Well,  I  can't 

193 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

teach  them,  but  I  might  try  some  other  poor 
class." 

"Why,  let  me  see.  The  fact  is  that  we  haven't 
any" — he  was  speaking  slowly,  casting  his  mind 
over  his  field — "very  poor  people  in  this  church. 
There  used  to  be  a  number;  but  they  don't  come 
any  more.  They  must  have  moved  out  of  the 
neighborhood.  I  must  make  my  assistant  look 
them  up." 

"You  have  no  poor,  then?" 

"Not  in  this  congregation.  The  fact  is  this 
church  is  not  very  well  suited  to  them.  They 
don't  mix  with  our  people.  You  see  our  class  of 
people — of  course,  we  are  doing  a  great  work 
among  the  poor,  our  chapels — we  have  three,  one 
of  them,  indeed,  is  a  church  and  larger  than  many 
independent  churches.  Another  has  given  me 
some  anxiety,  but  the  third  is  doing  quite  a  re 
markable  work  among  the  working  people  out  in 
the  east  end — that  under  my  assistant,  the  young 
man  you  interested  yourself  so  much  in  last  year 
— and  which  your  ball  committee  was  good 
enough  to  consider  in  selecting  the  object  of  its 
benevolence." 

"Yes,  I  know — Mr.  Marvel.  I  will  go  out 
there." 

"Oh!  my  dear,  you  couldn't  go  out  there!" 
194 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"Why  not?    I  want  to  see  him." 

"Why,  it  is  away  out  on  the  edge  of  the  city — 
what  you  might  call  the  jumping-off  place — 
among  manufactories  and  railroad  shops." 

"Yes,  I  know.    I  have  been  out  there." 

"You  have — why,  it  is  away  out.  It  is  on — I 
don't  recall  the  name  of  the  street.  It's  away 
out.  I  know  it's  near  the  street-car  terminus  that 
your  family  own.  It's  a  very  pretty  chapel  in 
deed.  Don't  you  think  so?  It  is  natural  that 
you  should  take  an  interest  in  it,  as  your  aunt, 
Mrs.  Argand,  helped  us  to  build  it.  She  gave  the 
largest  contribution  toward  it.  I  don't  know 
what  we  should  do  without  charitable  women  like 
her." 

"Yes,  I  know.  And  Mr.  Marvel  is  coming  on 
well?" 

A  change  came  over  the  face  of  the  rector.  "Oh, 
very  well — rather  an  ungainly  fellow  and  very 
slow,  but  doing  a  very  good  work  for  our  parish. 
I  have  been  wanting  to  get  the  Bishop  to  go  there 
all  this  year  as  there  are  a  number  of  candidates 
for  me  to  present;  but  he  has  been  so  busy  and  I 
have  been  so  busy 

"I  will  go  there,"  said  Miss  Leigh,  rising. 

"I  don't  think  you  will  like  it,"  urged  the 
rector.  "It  is  a  very  bad  part  of  the  town — 

195 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

almost  dangerous,  indeed — filled  with  working 
people  and  others  of  that  sort,  and  I  don't  suppose 
a  carriage  ever " 

"I  will  go  in  the  street  cars,"  said  the  girl. 

"The  street  cars!  Yes,  you  could  go  that  way, 
but  why  not  come  here  and  let  me  assign  you  a 
class?" 

"I  wish  to  work  among  the  poor." 

"The  happy  poor!"  said  the  rector,  smiling. 
"Why  not  come  and  help  me  in  my  work — who 
need  you  so  much?"  His  voice  had  changed 
suddenly  and  he  attempted  to  possess  himself  of 
the  gloved  hand  that  rested  on  his  table,  but  it 
was  suddenly  withdrawn. 

"I  thought  we  had  settled  that  finally  last  year," 
said  Miss  Leigh  firmly. 

"Ah,  yes;  but  the  heart  is  not  so  easily  regu 
lated."  ' 

"Oh!  yes,  yours  is.  Why  don't  you  try  Aunt 
Sophia  again?  " 

"Try — again? — who?"  The  rector  was  mani 
festly  somewhat  embarrassed. 

"Why,  Aunt  Sophia — 'the  evening  star,'"  said 
Miss  Leigh,  laughing. 

"Who  says — ?  Did  she  say  I  had — ah — 
addressed  her?" 

"No — I  got  it  from  you.    Come  on  now " 

196 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"Which  way  are  you  going?  That  is  just  my 
way.  May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  driving  up  with 
you?  I  must  go  and  see  your  aunt  and  welcome 
her  back.  One  moment."  He  had  shown  the 
young  lady  out  of  the  door.  He  now  turned  back 
and  folding  up  the  stock  bulletin  placed  it  carefully 
in  his  pocket. 

As  the  carriage  with  its  smart  team  turned  into 
one  of  the  broader  streets,  two  young  men  were 
standing  in  a  window  of  a  large  building  highly 
decorated,  looking  idly  out  on  the  street.  They 
had  just  been  talking  of  the  threatened  strike 
which  the  newspapers  were  discussing,  as  to  which 
they  held  similar  views. 

"I  tell  you  what  is  the  matter  with  those 
scoundrels,"  said  the  elder  of  the  two,  a  large, 
pampered  young  fellow;  "they  need  cold  steel — 
they  ought  to  be  made  to  work." 

"How  would  that  suit  us?"  laughed  the  other. 

"We  don't  have  to." 

"Hello !  What's  old  Bart  after? "  observed  the 
first  one. 

"Shekels,"  said  the  other,  and  yawned. 

"After  her — he's  taking  notice." 

"Oh!  no;  he's  wedded  to  the  tape — goes  into 
the  Grand  five  times  a  day  and  reads  the  tape." 

"Bet  you,  he  courts  her." 
197 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"How'll  you  prove  it?" 

"Ask  her." 

"Bet  you  you  daren't  ask  her." 

"How  much?" 

"What  you  like." 

"I  don't  want  to  win  your  money." 

"Don't  you?  Then  hand  me  back  that  little 
fifteen  hundred  you  picked  up  from  me  last  week." 

"That  was  square,  but  this  is  a  certainty." 

"I'd  chance  it — bet  you  a  thousand,  Jim,  you 
daren't  ask  her  to  her  face  if  old  Bart  isn't  courting 
her  and  hasn't  asked  her  to  marry  him." 

"Oh!  that's  different.  You  want  to  make  me 
put  up  and  then  make  my  bet  for  me.  I  tell  you 
what  I'll  bet — that  she's  the  only  girl  I  know  I 
wouldn't  ask  that." 

"That  may  be.  Now,  I  tell  you  what  I'll  bet 
— that  you  want  a  drink — ring  the  bell." 

"That's  a  certainty,  too,"  laughed  his  friend, 
and  they  turned  and  sank  wearily  in  deep  chairs 
till  a  drink  should  give  them  energy  to  start  a 
fresh  discussion. 

Having  put  down  the  Rev.  Bartholomew  at  the 
door  of  her  aunt's  imposing  mansion,  Eleanor 
Leigh,  after  a  moment  of  indecision,  directed  her 
coachman  to  drive  to  a  certain  street  in  the  sec 
tion  known  as  "downtown,"  and  there  she  stopped 

198 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

at  a  pleasant-looking  old  house,  and  jumping  out 
of  the  carriage,  ran  up  the  worn  stone  steps  and 
rang  the  bell.  It  was  a  street  that  had  once  been 
fashionable,  as  the  ample,  well-built  houses  and 
the  good  doors  and  windows  testified.  But  that 
fickle  jade,  Fashion,  had  long  since  taken  her 
flight  to  other  and  more  pretentious  sections,  and 
shops,  loan-offices,  and  small  grocers'  markets  had 
long  engulfed  the  mansions  of  the  last  generation. 
Had  any  gauge  of  the  decadence  of  the  quarter 
been  needed  it  might  have  been  found  in  the 
scornful  air  of  Miss  Leigh's  stout  coachman  as  he 
sat  on  his  box.  He  looked  unutterably  disgusted, 
and  his  chin  was  almost  as  high  as  the  chins  of  his 
tightly  reined  up  horses. 

Miss  Leigh  asked  of  the  rather  slatternly  girl 
who  came  to  the  door,  if  the  Miss  Tippses  were  in, 
and  if  so,  would  they  see  her.  When  the  maid 
went  to  see  if  they  were  at  home,  Miss  Leigh  was 
shown  into  a  large  and  very  dark  room  with 
chairs  of  many  patterns,  all  old,  placed  about  in  it, 
a  horsehair  sofa  on  one  side,  a  marble-topped  table 
in  the  centre;  an  upright  piano  on  the  other  side, 
and  on  a  small  table  a  large  piece  of  white  coral 
under  a  glass  cover.  Where  the  fireplace  had 
once  been,  a  large  register  now  stood  grating  off 
the  heat  that  might  try  in  vain  to  escape  through  it. 

199 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

Presently  the  maid  returned.  "Miss  Pansy" 
was  in,  and  would  the  lady  please  walk  up  ?  It 
was  in  the  third  story,  back,  at  the  top  of  the 
stairs.  Miss  Leigh  ran  up  and  tapped  on  the 
door,  waited  and  tapped  again.  Then,  as  there 
was  no  answer,  she  opened  the  door  cautiously 
and  peeped  in.  It  was  a  small  hall-room,  bare  of 
furniture  except  two  chairs,  a  sewing-machine,  a 
table  on  which  was  an  ironing-board  at  which  at 
the  moment  stood  a  little  old  lady  with  a  forehead 
so  high  as  to  be  almost  bald.  She  was  clad  in  a 
rusty  black  skirt,  a  loose  morning  sacque  of  blue 
cotton,  and  she  wore  loose  bedroom  slippers. 
Her  sleeves  were  rolled  up,  and  her  arms  were  thin 
and  skinny.  She  held  a  flat-iron  in  her  hand, 
with  which  she  had  evidently  been  ironing  a 
white  under-garment  which  lay  on  the  board, 
and  another  one  was  on  a  little  gas-stove  which 
stood  near  a  stationary  wash-stand.  As  Miss 
Leigh  opened  the  door,  the  old  lady  gave  a  little 
exclamation  of  dismay  and  her  hand  went  in 
voluntarily  to  her  throat. 

"Oh!  I  beg  your  pardon!"  said  the  girl,  starting 
to  retire  and  close  the  door;  "I  thought  the  ser 
vant  told  me 

By  this  time  the  other  had  recovered  herself. 

"Oh!  come  in,  won't  you?"  she  said,  with  a 

200 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

smile  and  in  a  voice  singularly  soft  and  refined. 
"My  sister  will  be  ready  to  receive  you  in  a 
moment.  I  was  only  a  little  startled.  The  fact 
is,"  she  said  laughing,  "I  thought  the  door  was 
bolted;  but  sometimes  the  bolt  does  not  go  quite 
in.  My  sister—  Won't  you  take  a  chair?  Let 
me  remove  those  things."  She  took  up  the  pile 
of  under-garments  that  was  on  one  chair  and 
placed  it  on  top  of  a  pile  of  dishes  and  other  things 
on  the  other. 

"Oh!  I  am  so  sorry,"  protested  the  girl,  who 
observed  that  she  was  concealing  the  dishes;  "I 
was  sure  the  girl  told  me  it  was  the  door  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs." 

"She  is  the  stupidest  creature — that  girl.  I 
must  really  get  my  sister  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Kale 
about  her.  I  would,  except  that  I  am  afraid  the 
poor  thing  might  lose  her  place.  There  is  another 
door  just  off  the  little  passage  that  she  probably 
meant." 

"Yes — probably.    It  was  I  that  was  stupid." 

"Oh!  no,  not  at  all.  You  must  excuse  the  dis 
order  you  find.  The  fact  is,  this  is  our  work 
room,  and  we  were  just — I  was  just  doing  a  little 
ironing  to  get  these  things  finished.  When  your 
card  was  brought  up — well,  we  both  were — and  as 
my  sister  is  so  much  quicker,  she  ran  to  get  ready, 

201 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

and  I  thought  I  would  just  finish  this  when  I  was 
at  it,  and  you  would  excuse  me." 

"Oh!  I  am  so  sorry.  I  wouldn't  for  anything 
have  interrupted  you,"  repeated  the  girl,  observ 
ing  how  all  the  time  she  was  trying  unobtrusively 
to  arrange  her  poor  attire,  rolling  down  her  sleeves 
and  smoothing  her  darned  skirt,  all  the  while  with 
a  furtive  glance  of  her  eye  toward  the  door. 

"Oh!  my  dear,  I  wouldn't  have  had  you  turned 
away  for  anything  in  the  world.  My  sister  would 
be  desolee.  We  have  a  better  room  than  this, 
where  we  usually  receive  our  visitors.  You  will 
see  what  a  nice  room  it  is.  We  can't  very  well 
afford  to  have  two  rooms;  but  this  is  too  small 
for  us  to  live  in  comfortably,  and  we  have  to  keep 
it  because  it  has  a  stationary  wash-stand  with  hot 
water,  which  enables  us  to  do  our  laundering." 

"Yes,  I  see,"  murmured  Miss  Leigh  softly. 

"You  see,  we  earn  our  living  by  making  under 
clothes  for — for  a  firm 

"I  see,  and  what  nice  work  you  do."  She  was 
handling  a  garment  softly. 

"Yes,  my  sister  does  beautiful  work;  and  I 
used  to  do  pretty  well,  too;  but  I  am  troubled  a 
little  with  my  eyes  lately.  The  light  isn't  very 
good  at  night — and  the  gas  is  so  expensive.  I 
don't  see  quite  as  well  as  I  used  to  do." 

202 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"How  much  can  you  do?"  asked  her  visitor, 
who  had  been  making  a  mental  calculation. 

"Why,  I—  It  is  hard  to  tell.  I  do  the  coarser 
work  and  my  sister  does  the  finishing;  then  she 
usually  launders  and  I  iron  when  I  am  able.  I 
suffer  with  rheumatism  so  that  I  can't  help  her 
very  much." 

"I  hope  you  make  them  pay  you  well  for  it," 
blurted  out  the  girl. 

"Why,  we  used  to  get  a  very  good  price.  We 
got  till  recently  seven  cents  apiece,  but  now  it  has 
been  cut  down — that  was  for  everything,  launder 
ing  and  ironing,  too.  We  are  glad  to  get  that." 

"How  on  earth  do  you  manage  to  live  on  it?" 

"Oh!  we  live  very  well — very  well,  indeed," 
said  the  little  lady  cheerfully.  "Mrs.  Kale  is  very 
good  to  us.  She  lets  us  have  the  rooms  cheaper 
than  she  would  any  one  else.  You  see  she  used 
to  know  us  when  we  lived  back  in  the  East.  Her 
father  was  a  clerk  in  our  father's  office,  and  her 
mother  went  to  school  with  us.  Then  when  we 
lost  everything  and  were  turned  out,  we  found  we 
had  to  make  our  own  living  and  we  came  here  to 
see  about  our  case,  and  she  found  we  were  here— 
and  that's  the  way  we  came  to  be  here.  But 
don't  you  let  my  sister  know  I  told  you  about  the 
sewing,"  she  said,  dropping  her  voice,  as  a  brisk 

203 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

step  was  heard  outside  the  door.  "Ah!  here  she 
is  now!"  as  at  the  moment  the  door  opened  and  a 
brisk  little  old  lady,  almost  the  counterpart  of  her 
sister,  except  that  she  might  have  been  ten  years 
her  junior,  that  is,  sixty  instead  of  seventy  years 
of  age,  tripped  into  the  room. 

"Oh!  my  dear  Miss  Leigh,  how  good  of  you  to 
come  all  the  way  out  here  to  call  on  us!  Sister, 
what  in  the  world  are  you  doing?  Why  will  you 
do  this?  I  can't  keep  her  from  amusing  herself!" 
(This  with  a  shake  of  the  head  and  a  comical  ap 
peal  for  sympathy  from  her  visitor.)  "Won't  you 
walk  into  our  sitting-room?  Now,  sister,  do  go 
and  make  yourself  presentable.  You  know  she 
will  slave  over  all  sorts  of  queer  things.  She 
really  loves  sewing  and  ironing.  I'm  quite 
ashamed  to  have  you  come  into  this  pig-sty. 
Walk  in,  won't  you?"  And  she  led  the  way  into 
a  larger  room  adjoining  the  work-room,  leaving 
Miss  Leigh  in  doubt  which  was  the  more  pathetic, 
the  little  old  lady  still  delving  over  the  ironing- 
board,  making  no  pretence  to  conceal  their  pov 
erty,  or  the  other  hi  her  poor  "best,"  trying  to 
conceal  the  straits  in  which  they  were  fallen. 

Eleanor  had  observed  that  the  older  sister's 
gaze  had  constantly  rested  on  the  rose  she  wore, 
and  as  they  were  going  out,  the  latter  called  her 

204 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

sister's  attention  to  it.  She  said,  she  thought  it 
possibly  the  most  beautiful  rose  she  had  ever  seen. 

"Won't  you  have  it?"  said  Eleanor,  and  un 
pinned  it. 

"Oh!  no,  indeed,  I  wouldn't  deprive  you  of  it 
for  anything.  It  is  just  where  it  ought  to  be." 

Eleanor  persisted,  and  finally  overcame  both  her 
reluctance  and  her  sister's  objection. 

She  was  struck  with  the  caressing  way  in  which 
she  took  and  held  it,  pressing  it  against  her 
withered  cheek. 

"Sister,  don't  you  remember  the  Giant-of- 
Battles  we  used  to  have  in  our  garden  at  Rose- 
bank?  This  reminds  me  of  it  so — its  fragrance  is 
just  the  same." 

"Yes.  We  used  to  have  a  great  many  roses," 
explained  the  younger  sister,  as  she  led  the  way 
into  the  next  room  as  if  she  were  asking  Eleanor 
into  a  palace,  though  this  room  was  almost  as  bare 
of  furniture  as  the  other,  the  chief  difference  being 
an  upright  case  which  was  manifestly  a  folding- 
bed,  and  a  table  on  which  were  a  score  of  books, 
and  a  few  old  daguerrotypes. 

"Your  friend,  Mr.  Marvel,  was  here  the  other 
day.  What  a  nice  young  man  he  is." 

"Yes,"  said  Eleanor.  "I  am  going  out  to  see 
him.  Where  has  he  moved  to?  "  Miss  Pansy  said 

205 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

she  did  not  know  the  street;  but  her  sister  had  the 
address.  She  would  go  and  see.  When  she  came 
back,  she  went  over  and  opened  the  old  Bible 
lying  on  the  table.  "Here  is  where  we  keep  the 
addresses  of  those  we  especially  value,"  she  said, 
smiling.  "Oh!  here  it  is.  When  he  was  here  the 
other  day,  he  brought  us  a  treat;  a  whole  half- 
dozen  oranges;  won't  you  let  me  prepare  you  one? 
They  are  so  delicious." 

Eleanor,  who  had  been  holding  a  bank-note 
clutched  in  her  hand,  thanked  her  with  a  smile, 
but  said  she  must  go.  She  walked  across  the 
room,  and  took  up  the  Bible  casually,  and  when 
she  laid  it  down  it  gaped  a  little  in  a  new  place. 

"Oh,  you  know  we  have  had  quite  an  advent 
ure,"  said  Miss  Pansy. 

"An  adventure?    Tell  me  about  it." 

"Why,  you  must  know  there  is  a  young  man 
here  I  am  sure  must  be  some  one  in  disguise.  He 
is  so — well,  not  exactly  handsome,  but  really  dis 
tinguished  looking,  and  he  knows  all  about  rail 
roads  and  things  like  that." 

"You'd  better  look  out  for  him,"  said  Miss 
Leigh. 

"Oh,  do  you  think  so?  My  sister  and  I  were 
thinking  of  consulting  him  about  our  affairs — our 
railroad  case,  you  know." 

206 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"Oh!    Well,  what  do  you  know  about  him?" 

"Nothing  yet.  You  see,  he  has  just  come;  but 
he  joined  us  on  the  street  this  morning  when  we 
were  going  out — just  shopping — and  offered  to 
take  our  bundles — just  two  little  bundles  we  had 
in  our  hands,  and  was  so  polite.  My  dear,  he  has 
quite  the  grand  air!" 

"Oh,  I  see.  Well,  that  does  not  necessarily 
make  him  a  safe  adviser.  Why  not  let  me  ask 
my  father  about  your  matter?  He  is  a  railroad 
man,  and  could  tell  you  in  a  minute  all  about  it." 

"Oh,  could  you?  That  would  be  so  kind  in 
you." 

"But  you  must  tell  me  the  name  of  the  road  in 
which  you  had  the  stock." 

"Oh,  my  dear.  I  don't  know  that  I  can  do 
that.  I  only  know  that  it  was  the  Transcon 
tinental  and  something  and  something  else.  I 
know  that  much,  because  it  was  only  about  sixty 
miles  long,  and  we  used  to  say  that  the  name  was 
longer  than  the  road.  My  father  used  to  say  that 
it  would  some  day  be  a  link  in  a  transcontinental 
chain — that's  where  it  got  its  name,  you  know." 

"Well,  look  out  for  your  prince  in  disguise," 
said  the  girl,  smiling  as  she  rose  to  take  her  leave. 

That  evening  at  dinner,  after  Eleanor  had  given 
her  father  an  account  of  her  day,  with  which  she 

207 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

always  beguiled  him,  including  a  description  of 
her  visit  to  the  two  old  ladies,  she  suddenly  asked, 
"  Father,  what  railroad  was  it  that  used  to  be 
known  as  the  'Transcontinental  Something  and 
Something'?" 

"The  what?" 

"The  'Transcontinental  Something  and  Some 
thing  Else'?  It  was  about  sixty  miles  long  and 
was  bought  up  by  some  bigger  road  and  reorgan 
ized." 

"I  suppose  you  mean  the  'Transcontinental, 
Northwestern  and  Great  Iron  Range  Road.' 
That  about  meets  the  condition  you  mention. 
What  do  you  know  about  it?" 

"Was  it  reorganized?" 

"Yes;  about  twenty  years  ago  and  again  about 
ten  years  ago.  I  never  quite  understood  the  last 
reorganization.  Mr.  Argand  had  it  done — and 
bought  up  most  of  the  stock." 

"Was  any  one  squeezed  out?" 

"Sure — always  are  in  such  cases.  That  is  the 
object  of  a  reorganization — partly.  Why  are  you 
so  interested  in  it?"  Mr.  Leigh's  countenance 
wore  an  amused  look. 

"I   have   two   friends — old   ladies — who   lost 

• 

everything  they  had  in  it." 
"I  guess  it  wasn't  much.    What  is  their  name?  " 
208 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"It  was  all  they  had.    They  are  named  Tipps." 

Mr.  Leigh's  expression  changed  from  amusement 
to  seriousness.  "Tipps — Tipps?"  he  repeated  rem- 
iniscently.  "Bassett  Tipps?  I  wonder  if  they 
were  connected  with  Bassett  Tipps?" 

"They  were  his  daughters — that  was  their 
father's  name.  I  remember  now,  Miss  Pansy  told 
me  once." 

"You  don't  say  so!  Why,  I  used  to  know 
Colonel  Tipps  when  he  was  the  big  man  of  this 
region.  He  commanded  this  department  before 
I  came  out  here  to  live,  and  the  old  settlers  thought 
he  was  as  great  a  man  as  General  Washington. 
He  gave  old  Argand  his  start.  He  built  that 
road, — was,  in  fact,  a  man  of  remarkable  fore 
sight,  and  if  he  had  not  been  killed — Argand  was 
his  agent  and  general  factotum —  They  didn't 
come  into  the  reorganization,  I  guess?" 

"That's  it — they  did  not — and  now  they  want 
to  get  their  interest  back." 

"Well,  tell  them  to  save  their  money,"  said  Mr. 
Leigh.  "It's  gone — they  can't  get  it  back." 

"They  want  you  to  get  it  back  for  them." 

"Me!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Leigh.  "They  want  me 
to  get  it  back!  Oh,  ho  ho!  They'd  better  go 
after  your  Aunt  Sophia  and  Canter." 

"Yes;  I  told  them  you  would." 
209 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"You  did?"  Mr.  Leigh's  eyes  once  more  lit  up 
with  amusement. 

"Yes;  you  see  they  were  robbed  of  every  cent 
they  had  in  the  world,  and  they  have  not  a  cent 
left." 

"Oh!  no,  they  were  not  robbed.  Everything 
was  properly  done  and  absolutely  regular,  as  I 
remember.  It  must  have  been.  I  think  there 
was  some  sort  of  claim  presented  afterward  by  the 
Tipps  Estate  which  was  turned  down.  Let  me 
see;  McSheen  had  the  claim,  and  he  gave  it  up — 
that  was  when?  Let  me  see.  He  became  counsel 
for  your  Uncle  Argand  in — what  year  was  it? — 
you  were  a  baby — it  must  have  been  eighteen 
years  ago." 

"That  was  nineteen  years  ago,  sir.  I  am  now 
twenty,"  said  his  daughter,  sitting  up  with  a  very 
grand  air. 

The  father's  eyes  lit  up  with  pride  and  affection 
as  he  gazed  at  the  trim,  straight  figure  and  the 
glowing  face. 

"You  were  just  a  little  baby — so  big."  He 
measured  a  space  of  about  two  dpan  with  his 
hands.  "That  was  your  size  then,  for  I  know  I 
thought  your  Uncle  Argand  might  have  made  me 
counsel  instead  of  McSheen.  But  he  didn't. 
And  that  was  McSheen's  start." 

210 


MISS  LEIGH  SEEKS  WORK 

"He  sold  out,"  said  the  girl  with  decision. 

"Oh,  no — I  don't  think  he  would  do  that.  He 
is  a  lawyer." 

"Yes,  he  would.  He's  a  horrid,  old,  disrepu 
table  rascal.  I've  always  thought  it,  and  now  I 
know  it.  And  I  want  you  to  get  my  old  ladies' 
interest  back  for  them." 

"I  can't  do  that.  No  one  can.  It's  too  long 
ago.  If  they  ever  had  a  claim  it's  all  barred 
long  ago." 

"It  oughtn't  to  be — if  it  was  stolen,"  persisted 
his  daughter,  "and  it  was." 


211 


XV 

THE   LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

TTAVING  decided  that  Mrs.  Kale's  did  not 
present  the  best  advantages,  I  determined 
to  move  to  more  suitable  quarters.  I  chose  a 
boarding-house,  partly  by  accident  and  partly 
because  it  was  in  a  semi-fashionable  quarter 
which  I  liked,  and  I  paid  Mrs.  Starling,  the  land 
lady,  a  decisive  person,  two  weeks'  board  in  ad 
vance,  so  as  to  have  that  long  a  lease  at  any  rate, 
and  a  point  from  which  to  take  my  bearings.  I 
had  learned  of  the  place  through  Kalender,  who  was 
deeply  enamoured  of  Miss  Starling,  a  Byzantine- 
hued  young  lady,  and  who  regarded  the  house 
somewhat  as  Adam  is  assumed  to  have  regarded 
Eden  after  his  banishment.  Mrs.  Starling  was,  in 
this  case,  the  angel  of  the  flaming  sword.  She 
had  higher  ambitions  for  Miss  Starling. 

I  had  less  than  forty  dollars  left,  and  fifteen  of 
that  was  borrowed  next  day  by  a  fellow-boarder 
named  Pushkin,  who  occupied  the  big  front  room 
adjoining  my  little  back  hall-room,  and  who  had 
"forgotten  to  draw  any  money  out  of  bank,"  he 

212 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

said,  but  would  "return  it  the  next  day  at  dinner 
time,"  a  matter  he  also  forgot.  I  was  particularly 
struck  with  him.  not  because  he  had  a  title  and  was 
much  kotowed  to  by  our  landlady  and  her  boarders 
— especially  the  ladies — as  because  I  recalled  his 
name  in  juxtaposition  with  Miss  Leigh's  in  the 
flamboyant  account  of  the  ball  the  night  after  I 
arrived. 

I  was  now  ensconced  in  a  little  pigeon-hole  of 
an  office  in  a  big  building  near  the  court-house, 
where,  with  a  table,  two  chairs,  and  a  dozen  books, 
I  had  opened  what  I  called  my  "law  office,"  with 
out  a  client  or  an  acquaintance,  but  with  abun 
dant  hopes. 

I  found  the  old  principle  on  which  I  had  been 
reared  set  at  naught,  and  that  life  in  its  entirety 
was  a  vast  struggle  based  on  selfishness. 

I  was  happy  enough  at  first,  and  it  was  well  I 
was.  It  was  a  long  time  before  I  was  happy  again. 
Having  in  mind  Miss  Leigh,  I  wrote  and  secured  a 
few  letters  of  introduction;  but  they  were  from 
people  who  did  not  care  anything  for  me  to  people 
who  did  not  care  anything  about  them — semi- 
fashionable  folk,  mainly  known  in  social  circles, 
and  I  had  no  money  to  throw  away  on  society. 
One,  indeed,  a  friend  of  mine  had  gotten  for  me 
from  Mr.  Poole  to  a  man  of  high  standing  both  in 

213 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

business  and  social  circles,  the  president  of  a 
manufacturing  company,  with  which,  as  I  learned 
later,  Mr.  Poole  had  formerly  some  connection. 
This  gentleman's  name  was  Leigh,  and  I  wondered 
if  he  were  the  same  person  who  had  been  posted 
by  Kalender  at  the  head  of  my  story  of  the  de 
layed  train.  I  thought  of  presenting  the  letter. 
It,  however,  was  so  guarded  that  I  thought  it 
would  not  do  me  the  least  good,  and,  besides,  I 
did  not  wish  to  owe  anything  to  Lilian  Poole 's 
father,  for  I  felt  sure  his  influence  had  always  been 
against  me,  and  I  was  still  too  sore  to  be  willing 
to  accept  a  favor  at  his  hands. 

It  was  well  I  did  not  present  it,  for  Mr.  Poole, 
with  well-considered  and  characteristic  prudence, 
had  written  a  private  letter  restricting  the  former 
letter  to  mere  social  purposes,  and  had  intimated 
that  I  had  been  a  failure  in  my  profession  and  was 
inclined  to  speculate.  This  character  he  had  ob 
tained,  as  I  subsequently  learned,  from  Peck. 

The  new  conditions  with  which  I  was  confronted 
had  a  singular  effect  on  me.  I  was  accustomed 
to  a  life  where  every  one  knew  me  and  I  knew, 
if  not  every  one,  at  least  something  good  or  bad 
about  every  one. 

Here  I  might  have  committed  anything  short  of 
murder  or  suicide  without  comment,  and  might 

214 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

have  committed  both  without  any  one  outside  of 
the  reporters  and  the  police  and  Dix  caring  a 
straw  about  it. 

I  felt  peculiarly  lonely  because  I  was  inclined 
to  be  social  and  preferred  to  associate  with  the 
first  man  I  met  on  the  street  to  being  alone.  In 
fact,  I  have  always  accounted  it  one  of  my  chief 
blessings  that  I  could  find  pleasure  and  entertain 
ment  for  a  half-hour  in  the  company  of  any  man 
in  the  world  except  a  fool  or  a  man  of  fashion,  as 
the  old  writers  used  to  speak  of  them,  or  as  we  call 
them  now,  members  of  the  smart  set. 

The  first  things  that  struck  me  as  I  stepped  out 
into  the  thronged  streets  of  the  city  were  the 
throngs  that  hurried,  hurried,  hurried  along,  like 
a  torrent  pouring  through  a  defile,  never  stopping 
nor  pausing — only  flowing  on,  intent  on  but  one 
thing — getting  along.  Their  faces,  undistinguished 
and  indistinguishable  in  the  crowd,  were  not  eager 
but  anxious.  There  was  no  rest,  and  no  room  for 
rest,  more  than  in  the  rapids  of  Niagara.  It  was 
the  bourgeoisie  at  flood,  strong,  turgid,  and  in 
mass,  ponderant;  but  inextinguishably  common. 
As  I  stood  among  them,  yet  not  of  them,  I  could 
not  but  remark  how  like  they  were  in  mass  and 
how  not  merely  all  distinction  but  all  individuality 
perished  in  the  mixing.  I  recalled  a  speech  that 

215 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

my  father  had  once  made.  "I  prefer  country 
men,"  he  said,  "to  city  men.  The  latter  are  as 
like  as  their  coats.  The  ready-made-clothing 
house  is  a  great  civilizer,  but  also  a  great  leveller. 
Like  the  common  school  of  which  you  boast,  it 
may  uplift  the  mass,  but  it  levels — it  destroys  all 
distinction." 

This  came  home  to  me  now. 

I  had  a  proof  of  its  truth,  and,  I  may  add,  of  the 
effect  of  urban  influences  not  long  after  I  launched 
on  the  restless  sea  of  city  life.  I  was  passing  one 
day  along  a  street  filled  with  houses,  some  much 
finer  than  others,  when  my  way  was  blocked  by 
a  child's  funeral  in  front  of  a  small  but  neat  house 
beside  one  much  more  pretentious.  The  white 
hearse  stood  at  the  door  and  the  little  white  coffin 
with  a  few  flowers  on  it  was  just  about  to  be 
borne  out  as  I  came  up.  A  child's  funeral  has 
always  appealed  to  me  peculiarly.  It  seems  so 
sad  to  have  died  on  the  threshold  before  even 
opening  the  door.  It  appeared  to  me  suddenly 
to  have  brought  me  near  to  my  kind.  And  I 
stopped  in  front  of  the  adjoining  house  to  wait  till 
the  sorrowing  little  cortege  had  entered  the  car 
riage  which  followed  behind  the  hearse.  A  num 
ber  of  other  persons  had  done  the  same  thing.  At 
this  moment,  the  door  of  the  larger  house  next 

216 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

door  opened,  and  a  woman,  youngish  and  well 
dressed,  appeared  and  stood  on  her  steps  waiting 
for  her  carriage  which  stood  at  some  little  distance. 

As  I  was  standing  near  her,  I  turned  and  asked 
her  in  an  undertone : 

"Can  you  tell  me  whose  funeral  this  is?" 

"No,  I  cannot,"  she  said,  so  sharply  that  I  took 
a  good  look  at  her  as  she  stood  trying  to  button  a 
tight  glove. 

"Oh!  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  knew  as  they  are 
your  next-door  neighbors." 

"Well,  I  do  not.  It's  no  concern  of  mine,"  she 
said  shortly.  She  beckoned  to  her  carriage  across 
the  way.  The  coachman  who  had  been  looking  at 
the  funeral  caught  sight  of  her  and  with  a  start 
wheeled  his  horses  around  to  draw  up.  The  num 
ber  of  persons,  however,  who  had  stopped  like 
myself  prevented  his  coming  up  to  her  door,  which 
appeared  to  annoy  the  lady. 

"Can't  you  move  these  people  on?"  she  de 
manded  angrily  of  a  stout  officer  who  stood  like 
the  rest  of  us,  looking  on. 

"It's  a  funeral,"  he  said  briefly. 

"Well,  I  know  it  is.  I  don't  expect  you  to  in 
terfere  with  that.  It's  these  idlers  and  curiosity 
mongers  who  block  the  way  that  I  want  moved  to 
clear  a  way  for  my  carriage.  And  if  you  can't  do 

217 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

it,  I'll  ask  Mr.  McSheen  to  put  a  man  on  this  beat 
who  can.  As  it  happens  I  am  going  there  now." 
Insolence  could  go  no  farther. 

"Let  that  carriage  come  up  here,  will  you?" 
said  the  officer  without  changing  his  expression. 
"Drive  up,  lad,"  he  beckoned  to  the  coachman 
who  came  as  near  as  he  could. 

"To  Mrs.  McSheen's,"  said  the  lady  in  a  voice 
evidently  intended  for  the  officer  to  hear,  "and 
next  time  don't  stand  across  the  street  staring  at 
what  you  have  no  business  with,  but  keep  your 
eyes  open  so  that  you  won't  keep  me  waiting  half 
an  hour  beckoning  to  you."  She  entered  the 
carriage  and  drove  off,  making  a  new  attack  on 
her  glove  to  close  it  over  a  pudgy  wrist.  I 
glanced  at  the  coachman  as  she  closed  the  door 
and  I  saw  an  angry  gleam  flash  in  his  eye.  And 
when  I  turned  to  the  officer  he  was  following  the 
carriage  with  a  look  of  hate.  I  suddenly  felt 
drawn  to  them  both,  and  the  old  fight  between  the 
People  and  the  Bourgeoisie  suddenly  took  shape 
before  me,  and  I  found  where  my  sympathies  lay. 
At  this  moment  the  officer  turned  and  I  caught 
his  eye  and  held  it.  It  was  hard  and  angry  at 
first,  but  as  he  gave  me  a  keen  second  glance,  he 
saw  something  in  my  face  and  his  eye  softened. 

"Who  is  Mr.  McSheen?"  I  asked. 
218 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

"The  next  mayor,"  he  said  briefly. 

"Oh!"  I  took  out  my  card  under  an  impulse 
and  scribbled  my  office  address  on  it  and  handed 
it  to  him.  "If  you  have  any  trouble  about  this 
let  me  know." 

He  took  it  and  turning  it  slowly  gazed  at  it,  at 
first  with  a  puzzled  look.  Then  as  he  saw  the 
address  his  expression  changed. 

He  opened  his  coat  and  put  it  carefully  in  his 
pocket. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  he  said  finally. 

I  turned  away  with  the  consciousness  that  I 
had  had  a  new  light  thrown  on  life,  and  had  found 
it  more  selfish  than  I  had  dreamed.  I  had  begun 
with  high  hopes.  It  was,  indeed,  ever  my  nature 
to  be  hopeful,  being  healthy  and  strong  and  in 
the  prime  of  vigorous  youth.  I  was  always  rich 
when  at  my  poorest,  only  my  heavy  freighted 
ship  had  not  come  in.  I  knew  that  though  the 
larder  was  lean  and  storms  were  beating  furiously 
off  the  coast,  somewhere,  beating  her  way  against 
the  contrary  winds,  the  argosy  was  slowly  making 
headway,  and  some  day  I  should  find  her  moored 
beside  my  pier  and  see  her  stores  unladen  at  my 
feet.  The  stress  and  storm  of  the  struggle  were 
not  unwelcome  to  me.  I  was  always  a  good 
fighter  when  aroused;  but  I  was  lazy  and  too  in- 

219 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

dolent  to  get  aroused.  Now,  however,  I  was  wide 
awake.  The  greatness  of  the  city  stirred  my 
pulses.  Its  blackness  and  its  force  aroused  my 
sleeping  powers,  and  as  I  stepped  into  the  surf  and 
felt  the  rush  of  the  tides  as  they  swept  about  and 
by  me,  I  felt  as  a  fair  swimmer  might  who  steps 
for  the  first  time  in  a  fierce  current  and  feels  it 
clutch  his  limbs  and  draw  him  in.  I  was  not 
afraid,  only  awakened  and  alive  to  the  struggle 
before  me,  and  my  senses  thrilled  as  I  plunged 
and  rose  to  catch  my  breath  and  face  the  vast 
unknown.  Later  on  I  found  that  the  chief  dan 
ger  I  had  not  counted  on :  the  benumbing  of  the 
senses,  the  slow  process  under  which  spirit,  energy, 
courage,  and  even  hope  finally  die. 

One  who  has  never  had  the  experience  of  start 
ing  in  a  big  city  alone,  without  a  connection  of 
any  kind,  cannot  conceive  what  it  means:  the 
loneliness — utter  as  in  a  desert — the  waiting — 
the  terrible  waiting — being  obliged  to  sit  day 
after  day  and  just  wait  for  business  to  come, 
watching  your  small  funds  ooze  out  drop  by  drop, 
seeing  men  pass  your  door  and  enter  others' 
offices  and  never  one  turn  in  at  yours,  till  your 
spirit  sinks  lower  and  lower  and  your  heart  dies 
within  you.  One  who  has  not  felt  it  does  not 
know  what  it  is  to  be  out  of  work  and  not  able  to 

220 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

get  it.  The  rich  and  fat  and  sleek — the  safe  and 
secure — what  know  they  of  want  ?  Want,  not  of 
money,  but  of  work :  the  only  capital  of  the  honest 
and  industrious  poor!  It  is  the  spectre  that 
ever  haunts  the  poor.  It  makes  the  world  look 
as  though  the  whole  system  of  society  were  out  of 
joint — as  if  all  men  were  in  conspiracy  against 
you — as  if  God  had  forgotten  you.  I  found  men 
in  a  harder  case  than  mine — men  in  multitude, 
with  wives  and  children,  the  babe  perishing  at 
the  mother's  withered  breast,  the  children  dying 
for  food,  staggering  along  the  streets  seeking 
work  in  vain,  while  wealth  in  a  glittering  flood 
poured  through  the  streets  in  which  they  per 
ished.  This  bitter  knowledge  I  came  to  learn 
day  after  day  till  I  grew  almost  to  hate  mankind. 
The  next  step  is  war  against  society.  Not  all  who 
wage  it  hate  the  men  they  fight.  It  is  the  cause 
they  hate.  There  I  sat  day  after  day,  full  of 
hope  and  eagerness  and — now  that  my  conceit 
was  somewhat  knocked  out  of  me — with  not  only 
abundant  ability,  but  the  stern  resolve  to  transact 
any  business  which  might  be  entrusted  to  me,  and 
just  rotted  to  despair.  No  wonder  men  go  to  the 
devil,  and  enlist  to  fight  the  whole  establishment 
of  organized  society.  I  almost  went.  When  I 
look  back  at  it  now  it  seems  like  a  miracle  that  I 

221 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

did  not  go  wholly.  Pride  saved  me.  It  sur 
vived  long  after  hope  died.  Sometimes,  I  even 
thought  of  the  pistol  I  had  in  my  trunk.  But  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  live  and  win.  There, 
too,  came  in  Pride.  I  could  not  bear  to  think  of 
Lilian  Poole  and  Peck.  How  she  would  con 
gratulate  herself  and  how  Peck  would  gloat! 
No,  I  could  not  give  him  that  satisfaction.  Peck 
did  me  a  good  turn  there.  A  strong  enmity,  well 
based,  is  not  always  without  good  results;  but 
Peck  should  not  smear  my  memory  with  pre 
tended  pity.  So  I  starved,  but  held  on.  When 
I  got  so  that  I  could  endure  it  no  longer,  I  used  to 
go  out  and  walk  up  and  down  the  streets — some 
times  the  fashionable  streets — and  look  at  the 
handsome  residences  and  the  fine  carriages  and 
automobiles  flashing  by  and  the  handsomely 
dressed  people  passing,  and  recall  that  I  was  as 
good  as  they — in  my  heart,  I  thought,  better. 
Some  of  them  with  kind  faces  I  used  to  fancy  my 
friends;  but  that  they  did  not  know  I  was  in 
town.  This  conceit  helped  me.  And  at  times  I 
used  to  fancy  that  I  lived  in  a  particular  house, 
and  owned  a  particular  team:  thus  living  for  a 
brief  moment  like  a  child  in  "making  pictures." 
A  house  is  sometimes  personal  and  well-nigh 
human  to  me.  It  appears  to  have  qualities  al- 

222 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

most  human  and  to  express  them  on  its  face: 
kindness,  hostility,  arrogance,  breadth  or  narrow 
ness,  and  brutal  selfishness  are  often  graven  on 
its  front.  I  have  often  felt  that  I  could  tell  from 
the  outside  of  a  house  the  characteristics  of  the 
people  within.  Arrogance,  ignorance,  want  of 
tact,  pretentiousness  and  display,  spoke  from 
every  massy  doorway  and  gaudy  decoration  with 
a  loudness  which  would  have  shocked  a  savage. 
This  being  so,  what  characters  some  of  the 
wealthy  people  of  our  cities  must  have!  It  must 
be  one  of  the  compensations  of  the  poor  that  the 
houses  of  the  rich  are  often  so  hideous  and  un- 
homelike. 

The  mansion  I  selected  finally  as  mine  was  a 
light  stone  mansion,  simple  in  its  style,  but  charm 
ing  in  its  proportions;  not  one  of  the  largest,  but 
certainly  one  of  the  prettiest  in  the  whole  city. 
Amid  a  waste  of  splendid  vulgarity  it  was  almost 
perfect  in  its  harmonious  architectural  design  and 
lines,  and  had  a  sunny,  homelike  look.  It  stood 
in  an  ample  lot  with  sun  and  air  all  around  it, 
and  grass  and  flowers  about  it.  Our  fathers  used 
to  say,  " seated,"  which  has  a  more  established 
and  restful  sound.  It  looked  a  home  of  refine 
ment  and  ease.  Its  stable  was  set  back  some 
distance  behind  and  a  little  to  one  side,  so  that  I 

223 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

could  see  that  it  was  of  the  same  stone  with  the 
mansion  and  just  enough  of  the  same  general 
style  to  indicate  that  it  belonged  to  the  mansion, 
and  the  teams  that  came  out  of  it  were  the  nattiest 
and  daintiest  in  the  city. 

One  day  as  I  was  walking,  trying  to  divert  my 
self  from  my  loneliness,  a  brougham  rolled  out  of 
this  stable  with  a  pair  of  airy,  prancing  bays, 
shining  like  satin,  and  drew  up  to  the  carriage- 
block  a  little  before  me,  and  a  young  lady  came  out 
of  the  house  as  I  passed  by.  My  heart  gave  a 
leap,  for  it  was  the  girl  I  had  seen  on  the  train. 
I  took  her  in,  rather  than  scanned  her  as  she 
tripped  down  the  stone  steps,  and  she  glanced  at 
me  for  a  second  as  if  she  thought  I  might  be  an 
acquaintance.  She  made  as  she  stood  there  one 
of  the  loveliest  pictures  I  had  ever  laid  eyes  on: 
her  trim,  slim  figure,  exquisitely  dressed,  in  the 
quietest  way;  soft,  living  brown  hair,  brushed 
back  from  a  white,  broad  forehead;  beautiful, 
speaking  eyes  under  nearly  straight  brows;  and 
a  mouth  neither  too  big  for  beauty  nor  too 
small  for  character;  all  set  off  by  a  big  black 
hat  with  rich  plumes  that  made  a  background  for 
what  I  thought  the  loveliest  face  I  had  ever  seen. 

Something  pleasant  had  evidently  just  hap 
pened  within ;  for  she  came  out  of  the  door  smiling, 

224 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

and  I  observed  at  the  same  moment  her  eyes  and 
her  dimples.  I  wondered  that  people  did  not 
always  smile:  that  smile  suddenly  lit  up  every 
thing  for  me.  I  forgot  my  loneliness,  my  want 
of  success,  myself.  Her  hands  were  full  of  parcels 
as  she  came  down  the  steps,  and  just  as  I  passed 
the  wind  lifted  the  paper  from  one — a  bunch  of 
flowers,  and  in  trying  to  recover  it  she  dropped 
another  and  it  rolled  down  to  my  feet.  I  picked 
it  up  and  handed  it  to  her.  It  was  a  ball,  one  of 
those  big,  squashy,  rubber  balls  with  painted 
rings  around  it,  that  are  given  to  small  children 
because  they  cannot  do  anything  with  them.  She 
thanked  me  sweetly  and  was  turning  to  her  car 
riage,  when,  under  a  sudden  impulse,  I  stepped  to 
the  door,  just  as  I  should  have  done  at  home,  and, 
lifting  my  hat,  said,  "I  beg  your  pardon,  but 
mayn't  I  open  your  door  for  you?" 

She  bowed,  looking,  perhaps,  just  the  least 
shade  surprised.  But,  having  handed  her  in,  I 
was  afraid  of  embarrassing  her,  and  was  backing 
away  and  passing  on  when  she  thanked  me  again 
very  graciously.  Again  I  lifted  my  hat  and  again 
got  a  look  into  her  deep  eyes.  As  the  carriage 
rolled  off,  she  was  leaning  back  in  it,  and  I  felt 
her  eyes  upon  me  from  under  the  shade  of  that 
big  hat  with  a  pleasant  look,  but  I  had  assumed 

225 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

an  unconscious  air,  and  even  stopped  and  picked 
up,  as  though  carelessly,  a  couple  of  violets  she 
had  dropped  as  she  crossed  the  sidewalk;  and 
after  a  sniff  of  their  fragrance,  dropped  them  into 
my  pocket-book,  because  they  reminded  me  of  the 
past  and  because  I  hated  to  see  them  lie  on  the 
hard  pavement  to  be  crushed  by  passing  feet. 
The  book  was  empty  enough  otherwise,  but  some 
how  I  did  not  mind  it  so  much  after  the  violets 
were  there. 

"Who  lives  in  that  house?"  I  asked  of  an 
officer. 

"Mr.  Leigh,  the  banker  and  big  west-side  street 
car  man — runs  all  the  lines  out  that  way — all  the 
Argand  Estate  don't  run,"  he  added.  He  waved 
his  arm  to  include  a  circle  that  might  take  in  half 
the  town  or  half  the  world.  "The  big  house 
in  the  middle  of  the  block  is  Mrs.  Argand's— 
the  great  philanthropist,  you  know.  Everybody 
knows  her."  I  did  not,  but  I  did  not  care;  I 
knew  all  I  wanted  to  know — I  knew  who  Miss 
Leigh  was.  I  reflected  with  some  concern  that 
this  was  the  name  of  the  vice-president  of  the 
railway  whom  I  had  attacked  through  Kalender 
and  of  the  man  to  whom  Mr.  Poole's  perfunctory 
letter  was  addressed.  I  went  back  to  my  office 
in  better  spirits,  and,  having  no  brief  to  work  on, 

226 


THE  LADY  OF  THE  VIOLETS 

even  wrote  a  poem  about  the  violets — about  her 
leaving  a  track  of  violets  behind  her. 

I  was  drawn  to  that  street  a  number  of  times 
afterward,  but  I  saw  her  no  more. 

I  don't  believe  that  love  often  comes  at  first 
sight;  but  that  it  may  come  thus,  or  at  least,  at 
second  sight,  I  have  my  own  case  to  prove.  It 
may  be  that  my  empty  heart,  bruised  and  lonely 
in  that  great  city,  was  waiting  with  open  door  for 
any  guest  bold  enough  to  walk  in  and  claim  posses 
sion.  It  may  be  that  that  young  lady  with  her" 
pleasant  smile,  her  high-bred  face  and  kindly  air, 
crossing  my  path  in  that  stranger-thronged  wil 
derness,  was  led  by  Providence;  it  may  be  that 
her  grace  and  charm  were  those  I  had  pictured 
long  in  the  Heavenward  dreams  of  youth  and  but 
now  found.  However  it  was,  I  went  home  in  love 
with  an  ideal  whose  outward  semblance  was  the 
girl  with  the  children's  toys — truly  in  love  with 
her.  And  the  vision  of  Lilian  Poole  never  came 
to  me  again  in  any  guise  that  could  discomfort 
me.  From  this  time  the  vision  that  haunted  me 
and  led  me  on  was  of  a  sweet-eyed  girl  who  dim 
pled  as  she  smiled,  and  dropped  her  violets.  The 
picture  of  Lilian  Poole,  standing  by  the  marble 
mantel  in  her  plush-upholstered  parlor,  adjusting 
her  bracelet  so  as  to  set  off  her  not  too  small  wrist, 

227 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

while  I  faced  my  fate,  flitted  before  my  mind,  but 
she  was  a  ghost  to  me,  and  my  heart  warmed  as 
I  thought  of  the  lady  of  the  violets  and  the  chil 
dren's  toys. 


228 


XVI 

THE   SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

T  SOON  changed  back  to  my  first  boarding- 
house.  After  my  two  weeks  were  out  for 
which  I  had  prepaid,  I  went  to  my  landlady,  Mrs. 
Starling,  a  tall,  thin  woman  with  high  cheek 
bones,  a  cold  eye,  and  a  close  mouth,  and  told  her 
frankly  I  could  not  pay  any  more  in  advance,  and 
that,  though  I  would  certainly  pay  her  within  a 
short  time,  it  might  not  be  convenient  for  me  to 
pay  her  by  the  week,  and  I  left  it  with  her  whether 
she  would  keep  me  on  these  terms.  She  did  not 
hesitate  a  second.  Her  first  duty  was  to  herself 
and  family,  she  said,  by  which  she  meant  her 
daughter,  "Miss  Starling,"  as  she  always  spoke  of 
her,  but  whom  the  irreverent  portion  of  the  board 
ers  whom  I  associated  with  always  spoke  of  as 
"Birdy,"  a  young  woman  who  dressed  much  in 
yellow,  perhaps  because  it  matched  her  blon- 
dined  hair,  played  vehemently  on  the  piano,  and 
entertained  the  young  men  who  boarded  there. 
"Besides,"  she  "wanted  the  room  for  a  dressing- 

229 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

room  for  a  gentleman  who  wished  a  whole 
suite,"  she  added,  with  what  I  thought  a  little 
undue  stress  on  the  word  "gentleman,"  as  the 
"gentleman"  in  question  was  the  person  who  had 
borrowed  my  money  from  me  and  never  returned 
it:  Count  Pushkin,  who  occupied  the  big  room 
next  my  little  one.  He  had,  as  I  learned,  cut 
quite  a  dash  in  town  for  a  while,  living  at  one  of 
the  most  fashionable  hotels,  and  driving  a  cart 
and  tandem,  and  paying  assiduous  attention  to  a 
young  heiress  in  the  city,  daughter  of  a  manufac 
turer  and  street-car  magnate ;  but  latterly  he  had 
taken  a  room  at  Mrs.  Starling's,  "in  order,"  he 
gave  out,  "that  he  might  be  quiet  for  a  time,"  as 
a  duke  or  duchess  or  something — I  am  not  sure 
he  did  not  say  a  king — who  was  his  relative,  had 
died  in  Europe.  He  had  taken  the  greater  part 
of  the  boarding-house  by  storm,  for  he  was  a  tall, 
showy-looking  fellow,  and  would  have  been  hand 
some  but  for  a  hard  and  shifty  eye.  And  I  found 
myself  in  a  pitiful  minority  in  my  aversion  to  him, 
which,  however,  after  a  while,  gained  some  re 
cruits  among  the  young  men,  one  of  them,  my 
young  reporter,  Kalender,  who  had  moved  there 
from  Mrs.  Kale's. 

The    boarding-house    keeper's    daughter    was 
desperately  in  love  with  Pushkin,  and,  with  her 

230 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

mother's  able  assistance,  was  making  a  dead  set 
for  him,  which  partiality  the  count  was  using  for 
what  it  was  worth,  hardly  attempting  meantime 
to  disguise  his  amusement  at  them.  He  sang 
enough  to  be  passable,  though  his  voice  was,  like 
his  eye,  hard  and  cold;  and  he  used  to  sing  duets 
with  Miss  Starling :  the  method  by  which,  accord 
ing  to  a  vivacious  young  Jew,  named  Isadore 
Ringarten,  who  lived  in  the  house,  he  paid  his 
board.  I  never  knew  how  he  acquired  his  infor 
mation,  but  he  was  positive. 

"I  vish,"  said  Isadore,  "I  could  pay  my  board 
in  vind — vith  a  little  song.  Now,  I  can  sing  so 
the  count  he  would  give  me  all  he  is  vorth  to  sing 
so  like  I  sing;  but  I  am  not  a  count — efen  on  this 
side." 

However  this  was,  Pushkin  paid  the  girl  enough 
attention  to  turn  the  poor  thing's  head,  and  made 
her  treat  harshly  my  reporter,  Kalender,  who  was 
deeply  in  love  with  her,  and  spent  all  his  salary  on 
her  for  flowers,  and  lavished  theatre  tickets  on  her. 

The  evening  before  I  left  I  had  to  call  Pushkin 
down,  who  had  been  drinking  a  little,  and  I  must 
say,  when  I  called,  he  came  promptly.  It  was 
after  dinner  in  "the  smoking-room,"  as  the  apart 
ment  was  called,  and  he  began  to  ridicule  poor 
Victoria  cruelly,  saying  she  had  told  him  her  hair 

231 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

was  yellow  like  that  of  the  girls  of  his  own  coun 
try,  and  he  had  told  her,  no,  that  hers  was 
natural,  while  theirs  was  always  dyed,  and  she 
swallowed  it. 

"She  is  in  loaf  mit  me.  She  swallow  whatefer 
I  gif  her — "  he  laughed.  The  others  laughed, 
too.  But  I  did  not.  I  thought  of  Lilian  Poole 
and  Peck.  Perhaps  I  was  thinking  of  my  money, 
and  I  know  I  thought  of  the  account  of  the  ball 
which  took  place  the  day  I  arrived.  I  told  him 
what  I  thought  of  his  ridiculing  a  girl  he  flattered 
so  to  her  face.  He  turned  on  me,  his  eyes  snap 
ping,  his  face  flushed,  but  his  manner  cool  and  his 
voice  level. 

"Ha,  ah!  Are  you  in  loaf  mit  her,  too,  like 
poor  Kalender,  who  spent  all  hees  moneys  on  her, 
and  what  she  laugh  at  to  make  me  amused?  I 
gif  her  to  you,  den.  I  too  not  want  her — I  haf 
had  her,  you  can  take  her." 

He  made  a  gesture  as  if  tossing  something  con 
temptuously  into  my  arms,  and  put  his  cigarette 
back  in  his  teeth  and  drew  a  long  breath.  There 
were  none  but  men  present,  and  some  of  them  had 
stopped  laughing  and  were  looking  grave. 

"No,  I  am  not  in  love  with  her,"  I  said  quietly, 
standing  up.  "I  only  will  not  allow  you  to  speak 
so  of  any  lady  in  my  presence — that  is  all."  I 

232 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

was  thinking  of  a  girl  who  lived  in  a  sunny  house, 
and  had  once  taken  a  lot  of  little  dirty-faced  chil 
dren  to  feed  them,  and  once  had  smiled  into  my 
eyes.  I  only  knew  her  name,  but  her  violets  were 
in  my  pocket  near  my  heart.  I  was  perfectly 
calm  in  my  manner  and  my  face  had  whitened, 
and  he  mistook  it,  for  he  blurted  out: 

"Oh!  I  vill  nod?  I  vill  nod  speaks  hi  your 
presence?  You  vill  gif  me  one  little  lesson?  You 
who  know  te  vorl  so  veil.  I  tank  you,  Millot!" 

He  bowed  low  before  me,  spreading  out  his 
arms,  and  some  of  the  others  tittered.  It  en 
couraged  him  and  he  straightened  up  and  stepped 
in  front  of  me. 

"I  vill  tell  you  vat  I  vill  does,"  he  proceeded.  "I 
vill  say  vat  I  tarn  please  before  you  about  any 
bodies."  He  paused  and  cast  about  for  something 
which  would  prove  his  boast.  "Tere  is  nod  a 
woman  in  tis  town  or  in  America,  py  tarn!  that 
vill  nod  gif  herself  to  fon  title — to  me  if  I  hax  her, 
and  say,  'tank  you,  Count.'  Ha,  ah?"  He  bent 
his  body  forward  and  stuck  his  face  almost  into 
mine  with  a  gesture  as  insulting  as  he  could  make 
it,  and  as  I  stepped  back  a  pace  to  get  a  firm  stand, 
he  stuck  out  his  tongue  and  wagged  his  head  in 
derision.  The  next  second  he  had  turned  almost 
a  somersault.  I  had  taken  boxing  lessons  since 

233 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

Wolffert  thrashed  me.  I  saw  the  bottom  of  his 
boots.  He  was  at  precisely  the  right  distance  for 
me  and  I  caught  him  fairly  in  the  mouth.  His 
head  struck  the  floor  and  he  lay  so  still  that  for  a 
few  moments  I  thought  I  had  killed  him.  But 
after  a  little  he  came  to  and  began  to  rise. 

"Get  up,"  I  said,  "and  apologize  to  these  gen 
tlemen  and  to  me."  I  caught  him  and  dragged 
him  to  his  feet  and  faced  him  around. 

"You  haf  insulted  me.  I  vill  see  about  tis," 
he  spluttered,  turning  away.  But  I  caught  him 
with  a  grip  on  his  shoulder  and  steadied  him. 
The  others  were  all  on  my  side  now;  but  I  did 
not  see  them,  I  saw  only  him. 

"Apologize,  or  I  will  fling  you  out  of  the  win 
dow."  He  apologized. 

The  affair  passed.  The  count  explained  his 
bruises  by  some  story  that  he  had  been  run  down 
by  a  bicycle,  to  which  I  learned  he  afterward 
added  a  little  fiction  about  having  stopped  a  run 
away  and  having  saved  some  one.  But  I  had 
left  before  this  little  touch  occurred  to  him.  Mrs. 
Starling  must  have  had  some  idea  of  the  collision, 
though  not  of  the  original  cause ;  for  she  was  very 
decided  in  the  expression  of  her  wishes  to  have 
possession  of  "the  dressing-room"  that  night  for 
the  "gentleman,"  and  I  yielded  possession. 

234 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

The  curious  thing  about  it  was  that  one  reason 
I  could  not  pay  Mrs.  Starling  again  in  advance 
was  that  he  still  had  my  money  which  he  had 
borrowed  the  day  after  I  had  arrived. 

From  Mrs.  Starling's  I  went  back  to  my  old 
boarding-house,  kept  by  Mrs.  Kale,  as  a  much 
cheaper  one,  in  a  much  poorer  neighborhood,  where 
I  was  not  asked  to  pay  in  advance,  but  paid  at  the 
end  of  the  month  by  pawning  my  scarf-pins  and 
shirt  studs,  and  gradually  everything  else  I  had. 

I  was  brought  up  to  go  to  church,  my  people 
having  all  been  earnest  Christians  and  devoted 
church  people ;  but  in  my  college  years  I  had  gone 
through  the  usual  conceited  phase  of  callow  agnos 
ticism;  and  partly  from  this  intellectual  juvenile 
disease  and  partly  from  self-indulgence,  I  had  al 
lowed  the  habit  to  drop  into  desuetude,  and  later, 
during  my  first  years  at  the  bar,  I  had  been  gradu 
ally  dropping  it  altogether.  My  conscience,  how 
ever,  was  never  quite  easy  about  it.  My  mother 
used  to  say  that  the  promise  as  to  training  up  a 
child  in  the  way  he  should  go  was  not  to  be  ful 
filled  in  youth  but  in  age,  and  as  my  years  ad 
vanced,  I  began  to  find  that  the  training  of  child 
hood  counted  for  more  and  more.  Lilian  Poole, 
however,  had  no  more  religion  than  a  cat.  She 
wished  to  be  comfortable  and  to  follow  the  general 

235 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

habit  of  the  feline  class  to  which  she  belonged. 
She  went  to  the  Episcopal  Church  because  it  was 
fashionable,  and  whenever  she  had  half  an  excuse 
she  stayed  away  from  church  unless  it  were  on  a 
new-bonnet  Sunday,  like  Easter  or  some  such  an 
occasion,  when  she  made  up  by  the  lowness  of  her 
genuflections  and  the  apparent  devoutness  of  her 
demeanor  for  all  omissions.  I  must  confess  that  I 
was  very  easily  influenced  by  her  at  that  time,  and 
was  quite  as  ready  to  absent  myself  from  church 
as  she  was,  though  I  should  have  had  a  much 
deeper  feeling  for  her  if  she  had  not  violated  what 
I  esteemed  a  canon  of  life,  that  women,  at  least, 
should  profess  religion,  and  if  she  had  not  pre 
tended  to  have  questionings  herself  as  to  mat 
ters  as  far  beyond  her  intellect  as  the  Copernican 
system  or  Kepler's  laws.  I  remember  quoting  to 
her  once  Dr.  Johnson's  reply  to  Boswell,  when  the 
latter  asked  if  Poole,  the  actor,  were  not  an  atheist : 
"Yes,  sir,  as  a  dog  is  an  atheist;  he  has  not 
thought  on  the  matter  at  all." 

"Dr.  Samuel  Johnson?"  she  asked.  "You 
mean  the  one  who  wrote  the  Dictionary?"  and  I 
saw  that  she  was  so  pleased  with  her  literary 
knowledge  hi  knowing  his  name  that  she  never 
gave  a  thought  to  the  matter  that  we  were  dis 
cussing,  so  let  it  drop. 

236 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

As  David  said,  that  in  his  trouble  he  called  upon 
the  Lord,  so  now,  in  my  solitude  and  poverty,  I 
began  once  more  to  think  on  serious  things,  and 
when  Sunday  came  I  would  dress  up  and  go  to 
church,  partly  in  obedience  to  the  feeling  I  speak 
of,  and  partly  to  be  associated  with  people  well 
dressed  and  good  mannered,  or  passably  so.  The 
church  I  selected  was  a  large  stone  edifice,  St. 

's,  with  a  gilded  cross  on  its  somewhat 

stumpy  spire,  toward  which  I  saw  a  richly  clad 
congregation  wending  their  way  Sunday  morning. 

The  rector,  as  was  stated  in  gilded  letters  on  a 
large  sign,  was  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bartholomew  Capon. 
I  cannot  say  that  the  congregation  were  especially 
refined  looking  or  particularly  cordial;  in  fact, 
they  were  very  far  from  cordial,  and  the  solemn 
verger  to  whom  I  spoke,  after  turning  a  deaf  ear 
to  my  request  for  a  seat,  took  occasion,  as  soon  as 
he  had  bowed  and  scraped  a  richly  dressed,  stout 
lady  up  the  aisle,  to  look  me  over  on  the  sly,  not 
omitting  my  shoes,  before  he  allowed  me  to  take 
a  seat  in  one  of  the  rear  pews. 

The  preacher — "The  Rector,"  as  he  spoke  of 
himself  in  the  notices,  when  he  occasionally  waived 
the  rather  frequent  first  personal  pronoun — was  a 
middle-aged  gentleman  with  a  florid  complexion, 
a  sonorous  voice,  a  comfortable  round  person, 

237 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

and  fair  hands  of  which  he  was  far  from  ashamed; 
for  he  had  what,  but  for  my  reverence  for  the 
cloth,  I  should  call  a  trick  of  using  his  hand  with 
a  voluminous,  fine  cambric  handkerchief  held 
loosely  in  it.  His  face  was  self-contained  rather 
than  strong,  and  handsome  rather  than  pleasing. 
He  was  so  good-looking  that  it  set  me  on  reflecting 
what  relation  looks  bear  to  the  rectorship  of  large 
and  fashionable  churches;  for,  as  I  recalled  it, 
nearly  all  the  rectors  of  such  churches  were  men  of 
looks,  and  it  came  to  me  that  when  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  requested  his  old  college  friend  to  send 
him  down  a  chaplain,  he  desired  him  to  find  out  a 
man  rather  of  plain  sense  than  much  learning,  of 
a  good  aspect,  a  clear  voice,  a  sociable  temper,  and, 
if  possible,  a  man  who  knew  something  of  back 
gammon.  His  sermon  was  altogether  a  second 
ary  consideration,  for  he  could  always  read  one  of 
the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph's  or  Dr.  South's  or  Dr. 
Tillotson's.  Possibly,  it  is  something  of  the  same 
feeling  that  subordinates  the  sermons  to  the  looks 
of  rectors  of  fashionable  churches.  However,  I 
did  not  have  long  to  reflect  on  that  idea,  for  my 
thoughts  were  given  a  new  and  permanently  differ 
ent,  not  to  say  pleasanter,  direction,  by  the  sudden 
appearance  of  a  trim  figure,  clad  in  a  gray  suit 
and  large  gray  hat,  which,  as  it  moved  up  the 

238 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

aisle,  quite  eclipsed  for  me  "the  priest  and  all  the 
people."  I  was  struck,  first,  by  the  easy  grace 
with  which  the  young  girl  moved.  But,  before 
she  had  turned  into  her  pew  and  I  caught  sight  of 
her  face  under  the  large  hat  which  had  hidden  it, 
I  knew  it  was  my  young  lady,  Miss  Leigh,  whom 
I  had  helped  up  on  the  train  and  afterward  into 
her  carriage.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the 
Rev.  Dr.  Capon  secured  that  moment  a  new  per 
manent  member  of  his  congregation.  Before  the 
service  was  over,  however,  I  had  been  solemnized 
by  her  simple  and  unaffected  devoutness,  and 
when,  in  one  of  the  chants,  I  caught  a  clear  liquid 
note  perfectly  sweet  and  birdlike,  I  felt  as  though 
I  had  made  a  new  and  charming  discovery. 

The  rector  gave  a  number  of  notices  from  which 
I  felt  the  church  must  be  one  of  the  great  forces 
of  the  city  for  work  among  the  poor,  yet,  when  I 
glanced  around,  I  could  not  see  a  poor  person  in 
the  pews  except  myself  and  two  old  ladies  in 
rusty  black,  who  had  been  seated  near  the  door. 
I  was  struck  by  the  interest  shown  in  the  notices 
by  my  young  lady  of  the  large  hat,  from  whose 
shapely  little  head  with  its  well-coiled  brown  hair 
my  eyes  did  not  long  stray. 

"I  have,"  he  said,  "in  addition  to  the  notable 
work  already  mentioned,  carried  on,  through  my 

239 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

assistant  in  charge,  the  work  of  St.  Andrew's 
chapel  with  gratifying  success.  This  work  has 
reached,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  say,  is  reach 
ing  more  than  ever  before,  the  great  ignorant 
class  that  swarms  hi  our  midst,  and  exhibits  a 
tendency  to  unrest  that  is  most  disturbing.  This 
is  the  class  which  causes  most  of  the  uneasiness 
felt  in  the  minds  of  the  thoughtful." 

I  observed  that  he  did  not  mention  the  name 
of  "the  assistant  in  charge,"  and  my  sympathy 
rather  went  out  to  the  nameless  priest,  doing 
his  work  without  the  reward  of  even  being  men 
tioned. 

As  to  the  sermon,  I  can  only  say  that  it  was 
twenty  minutes  long,  and  appeared  aimed  ex 
clusively  at  the  sins  of  Esau  (whom  I  had  al 
ways  esteemed  a  quite  decent  sort  of  fellow), 
rather  than  at  those  of  the  doctor's  congregation, 
whom  he  appeared  to  have  a  higher  opinion  of 
than  of  the  Patriarchs.  I  recall  the  text:  "Seek 
ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you."  He  made  it  very 
plain  that  to  be  pious  and  prudent  was  the  best 
way  to  secure  wealth.  He  held  up  a  worldly 
motive  and  guaranteed  a  worldly  reward.  Such 
a  sermon  as  that  would  have  eased  the  most  un 
easy  conscience  in  Christendom. 

240 


THE  SHADOW  OF  SHAM 

When  the  congregation  came  out  I  dawdled  in 
the  aisle  until  my  young  lady  passed,  when  I 
feasted  my  eyes  on  her  face  and  finely  curved 
cheek,  straight  nose,  and  soft  eyes  veiled  under 
their  long  lashes.  My  two  old  ladies  in  black  were 
waiting  in  the  end  of  a  pew  and,  as  I  observed  by 
their  smiles  when  she  approached,  waiting  like 
myself  to  see  her.  I  had  already  recognized 
them  as  the  old  ladies  of  the  bundles,  whom  I  had 
once  helped  on  the  street.  How  I  envied  them 
the  smile  and  cordial  greeting  they  received  in 
return!  I  made  the  observation  then,  which  I 
have  often  had  confirmed  since,  that  tenderness 
to  the  aged,  like  that  to  the  very  young,  is  the 
mark  of  a  gentle  nature. 

I  heard  them  say,  "We  know  who  has  done  the 
work  out  at  the  chapel,"  and  she  replied,  "Oh! 
no,  you  must  not  think  that.  My  poor  work  has 
been  nothing.  Your  friend  has  done  it  all,  and  I 
think  that  the  doctor  ought  to  have  said  so,"  to 
which  they  assented  warmly,  and  I  did  the  same, 
though  I  did  not  know  their  friend's  name. 

As  I  had  nowhere  to  go  in  particular,  I  strolled 
slowly  up  the  street,  and  then  walked  back  again. 
And  as  I  neared  the  church,  I  met  the  rector  who 
had  just  left  his  robing-room.  He  was  a  fine- 
looking  man  on  the  street  as  well  as  in  the  chancel, 

241 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

and  I  was  prompted  to  speak  to  him,  and  say 
that  I  had  just  heard  him  preach.  He  was,  how 
ever,  too  impatient  at  my  accosting  him  and  so 
manifestly  suspicious  that  I  quickly  regretted  my 
impulse.  His  "Well,  what  is  it?"  was  so  prompt 
on  his  lips  and  his  suspicion  of  me  was  so  clear  in 
his  cold  bluish  eyes,  that  I  drew  myself  up  and 
replied:  "Oh!  nothing.  I  was  only  going  to  say 
that  I  had  just  heard  you  preach — that's  all." 

"Oh!  Ah!  Well,  I'm  much  obliged.  I'm 
very  glad  if  I've  helped  you."  He  pulled  out  his 
watch. 

"Helped  me!  You  haven't,"  I  said  dryly  and 
turned  away. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  as  I  strolled  along 
the  street  lonely  and  forlorn,  I  saw  him  hurrying 
up  the  steps  of  the  large  house  which  had  been 
pointed  out  to  me  as  Mrs.  Argand's,  the  great 
philanthropist. 


242 


XVII 

THE   GULP 

A  S  I  saw  more  of  the  city,  its  vastness,  its 
•**•  might,  and  its  inhumanity  grew  on  me.  It 
was  a  world  in  itself,  a  world  constructed  on  lines 
as  different  from  that  in  which  I  had  lived  as  if 
smaller  cities  I  had  known  as  if  it  had  been  Baby- 
it  had  been  Mars;  a  city  as  different  from  the 
Ion  or  Nineveh.  The  contrasts  were  as  great  as 
they  could  have  been  in  the  capitals  Sardana- 
palus  built.  Structures  so  vast  that  they  must 
have  dwarfed  the  towers  of  Sardis — so  rich  and 
splendid  that  the  Hanging  Gardens  of  Babylon 
must  have  been  outshone — reared  their  stupen 
dous  bulk  into  the  smoky  air  and  cast  into  per 
petual  shade  all  that  lay  near  them.  Hard 
beside  their  towering  mass  lay  a  region  filled  with 
the  wretched  tenements  of  the  poor,  and  a  little 
further  off  the  houses  of  the  well-to-do.  And 
there  was  not  a  greater  contrast  between  the 
vastness  of  the  one  and  the  pitiful  squalor  of 
the  other  than  between  the  life  of  the  owners 

243 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

of  the  former  and  that  of  the  denizens  of  the 
closely  packed  tenements  which  dwindled  in  their 
shadow.  Splendor  and  squalor  were  divided 
often  only  by  a  brick  wall.  The  roar  of  the  tide 
that  swept  through  the  teeming  streets  drowned 
the  cry  of  wretchedness,  and  only  the  wretched 
knew  how  loud  it  was.  I  had  never  seen  such 
wealth,  and  I  had  never  dreamed  of  such  poverty. 

The  vulgar  make  the  parade;  the  refined  pass 
so  quietly  as  scarcely  to  be  observed.  The  vul 
garity  of  the  display  of  riches  began  to  oppress 
me.  I  discovered  later  the  great  store  of  refine 
ment,  goodness,  and  sweetness  that  was  hidden  in 
the  homes  alike  of  an  element  of  the  wealthy,  the 
merely  well-to-do,  and  the  poor.  But  for  a  time 
it  was  all  eclipsed  by  the  glare  of  the  vulgar  and 
irresponsible  rich.  Arrogance,  discontent,  hard 
ness,  vulgarity,  were  stamped  in  many  faces,  and 
spoke  in  every  movement  of  many  of  those  I  saw, 
even  of  the  most  richly  dressed. 

I  think  it  was  more  the  vulgarity  and  insolence 
of  those  I  saw  decked  in  the  regalia  of  wealth  than 
anything  else — than  even  my  own  poverty — that 
changed  my  views  and  turned  me  for  a  time  from 
my  easy  indifference  as  to  social  conditions  tow 
ard  a  recognition  that  those  conditions  are  ridicu 
lously  antiquated,  a  bent  I  have  never  quite 

244 


THE  GULF 

got  over,  though  I  was  later  drawn  back  to  a 
more  conservative  point  of  view  than,  under  the 
hatred  of  sham  and  the  spur  of  want,  I  was  driven 
to  occupy  for  some  time.  They  have  no  tradi 
tions  and  no  ideals.  They  know  no  standard  but 
wealth,  and  possess  no  ability  to  display  it  but 
through  parade.  They  feel  it  necessary  to  prove 
their  novel  position  by  continual  assertion. 
They  think  that  wealth  has  exempted  them  from 
decency.  They  mistake  civility  for  servility  and 
rudeness  for  gentility.  Their  best  effort  is  only 
a  counterfeit,  a  poor  imitation  of  what  they 
imagine  to  be  the  manners  of  the  upper  class 
abroad  whose  indifferent  manners  they  ape. 

"Misery  loves  company,"  and  when  I  wanted 
comfort  I  left  the  section  of  splendor  and  display, 
of  riotous  extravagance  and  glittering  wealth, 
and  went  to  those  poorer  than  myself;  a  practice 
I  can  commend  from  experience. 

When  J  got  so  desperate  that  I  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer,  and  was  afraid  I  might  fall  down 
dead  or  do  myself  violence,  I  used  to  turn  my  steps 
in  another  direction  and  walk  through  the  poorer 
part  of  the  city — not  the  worst  part — where  there 
was  nothing  but  dirt  and  squalor  and  filth:  that 
sickened  me,  and  I  had  never  had  much  sym 
pathy  with  the  class  that  lived  there.  They  al- 

245 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

ways  appeared  contented  enough  with  their  sur 
roundings  and  rather  to  enjoy  themselves  in 
their  own  way.  And  not  the  successful  work 
man's  quarter.  There  was  an  assurance  and 
assumption  there  that  offended  me.  The  assump 
tion  bred  of  sudden  success,  no  matter  in  what 
class,  is  everywhere  equally  vulgar  after  its  kind. 
It  was  the  part  of  the  city  where  the  people  were 
respectable,  but  where  they  could  just  hold  on 
with  all  their  struggling  and  striving,  that  I  used 
to  go  into;  the  part  where  there  were  patches,  not 
rags;  and  sometimes  an  effort  to  keep  down  the 
dirt,  and  where  a  bit  of  a  plant  in  a  little  pot  or  a 
little  cheap  ornament  in  a  window  told  of  the 
spark  of  sentiment  that  could  yet  live  amid  the 
poverty  and  hardness  about  it.  They  always 
place  them  in  the  windows,  partly,  no  doubt,  to 
get  the  light,  and  partly,  perhaps,  to  show  passers- 
by  that  there  is  something  within  better  than 
might  be  looked  for  next  door.  These  people  on 
their  holidays  always  make  toward  the  open 
country;  they  try  to  get  away  from  their  robuster, 
more  successful  brothers,  and  get  back  near  to 
Nature — the  old  mother  that  cares  nothing  for 
success;  and  repays  only  according  to  the  love 
her  children  bear  her.  Here  I  often  walked  as  I 
grew  more  wretched. 

246 


THE  GULF 

In  this  section  I  used  to  see  people  with  whom 
I  felt  in  touch:  a  man  with  the  badgered  look  in 
his  eye  that  made  me  know  that  he  was  at  bay; 
or  a  woman  with  that  resigned  air  which  hopeless 
struggling  stamps  in  the  face  and  binds  on  the 
shoulders.  These  drew  me  nearer  to  my  kind, 
and  made  me  feel  that  there  were  others  in  a 
harder  case  than  I,  and  gave  me  a  desire  to  help 
them.  I  came  to  know  some  of  them  by  sight 
and  the  houses  in  which  they  lived,  and  some 
times  I  spoke  to  them  and  exchanged  a  word  or 
two,  and  the  effort  to  take  a  cheerful  view  with 
them  helped  me,  and  sent  me  back  to  my  little 
lonely  cubby-hole  cheered  and  in  some  sort  com 
forted  and  resolute  to  hold  out  a  little  longer. 
But  it  was  hungry  work. 

This  element  composed  the  great  body  of  the 
population,  but  deep  down  below  them  lay  a  yet 
lower  element  weltering  in  an  infinite  and  hope 
less  misery  to  which  even  the  poor  class  I  speak 
of  were  alien.  They  were  generically  spoken  of 
at  times  as  the  criminal  classes.  They  were  not 
this  at  all,  though  among  them  were  many 
criminals — driven  to  crime  by  necessity — because 
there  was  no  means  for  them  to  subsist,  no  pos 
sible  means  nor  hope  outside  of  their  casual  and 
occasional  violation  of  the  statute  law  by  which 

247 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

they  secure  enough  for  empty  bellies  and  freezing 
bodies  merely  to  keep  alive.  They  live  among 
and  on  the  poor,  and  one  of  the  bitterest  trials  of 
poverty  is  the  continual  presence  and  preying  of 
these  parasites  who  like  other  vermin  pursue 
them  and  cannot  be  kept  off.  Their  only  com 
mon  crime  is  desperate,  infinite  poverty — poverty 
beyond  hope,  for  they  have  nothing — not  work, 
nor  the  hope  of  work — not  even  the  power  to 
work,  if  it  should  be  offered  them.  As  the  well- 
to-do  look  with  anxiety  to  the  loss  of  their  prop 
erty  and  the  consequent  sinking  to  some  lower 
plane  of  moderate  poverty,  so  the  poor  look  with 
shuddering  or,  at  last,  with  despair  to  sinking  into 
the  slough  of  this  hopeless  state  for  which  there  is 
no  name,  because  none  has  been  devised  adequate 
to  describe  its  desperate  misery.  Often  but  a  block 
or  even  but  a  wall  divides  the  reeking  slum  where 
they  creep  and  fester  and  rot,  from  the  broad, 
well-lighted,  smooth-paved  avenue  where  irre 
sponsible  wealth  goes  clattering  by  in  its  wild 
orgy  of  extravagance  and  reckless  mirth.  The 
eye  of  the  mangy  and  starving  wolf  from  his 
thicket  gleams  dully  at  the  glittering  pageant  of 
heartless  irresponsibility  and  waste.  Should  the 
pack  ever  find  a  leader  bold  enough  to  spring, 
what  will  be  the  end? 

248 


THE  GULF 

At  present  they  are  hungry  enough,  but  they 
have  not  organized;  they  are  not  yet  a  hunting 
pack,  but  only  scattered  bands,  slinking  about 
hungrily,  fighting  and  preying  on  each  other,  the 
larger  bands  with  the  bolder  leaders  driving  off 
the  weaker  and  unorganized.  But  let  them  all 
organize  once  and  the  end  will  not  be  yet. 

Day  after  day  I  saw  my  last  few  dollars  leak 
away,  and,  though  I  replenished  my  thin  purse 
at  times  by  pawning  everything  pawnable  I  had, 
yet  this,  too,  gradually  oozed  away.  Fortunately 
I  had  plenty  of  clothes,  which  I  had  bought  in 
my  flush  days,  so  I  could  still  make  a  respectable 
appearance. 

As  money  got  low  all  sorts  of  schemes  used  to 
present  themselves  to  me  to  replenish  my  pocket. 
One  was  to  go  out  as  a  laborer  on  the  streets, 
clean  bricks,  or  do  anything.  I  was  not  lazy. 
I  would  have  walked  around  the  world  for  a  case. 
I  do  not  think  I  was  ashamed  of  it,  for  I  knew  it 
was  respectable,  but  I  was  afraid  some  one  I 
knew  might  pass  by;  I  was  afraid  that  Pushkin 
or  Mrs.  Starling  might  see  me,  and — yes,  that  that 
young  girl  from  the  colonial  house  might  recog 
nize  me.  I  had  often  thought  of  her  violets  since 
I  had  dropped  them  into  my  pocket-book.  And 
now,  when  this  idea  came  to  me,  I  took  them  out 

249 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

and  looked  at  them.  They  still  retained  a  faint 
fragrance.  What  would  be  the  result  if  she 
should  pass  by  and  see  me  cleaning  bricks — me  a 
laborer,  and  Pushkin — the  thoughts  came  to 
gether — should  see  me?  I  would  win  on  my  own 
line  if  it  took  me  all  my  life. 

The  idea  of  Pushkin  suggested  another  plan. 
Why  not  gamble?  Gambling  was  gentlemanly— 
at  least,  gentlemen  gambled.  But  did  they  play 
for  a  living?  I  had  gambled  a  little  myself  in  the 
past;  played  poker,  and,  like  most  men,  prided 
myself  on  my  game,  though  I  generally  lost  in  the 
long  run ;  and  when  I  was  making  good  resolutions 
after  my  failure,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  never  to 
play  again  anywhere.  And  I  had  always  held 
to  the  opinion  that,  as  soon  as  a  man  played  for 
his  living,  he  crossed  the  line  and  ceased  to  be  a 
gentleman.  Now,  however,  it  began  to  appear 
to  me  as  if  this  were  the  only  plan  by  which  I 
could  make  anything,  and  as  if  I  should  have  a 
good  excuse  for  breaking  my  resolution.  I  re 
sisted  the  temptation  for  some  time;  but  one 
night,  when  I  had  pawned  nearly  everything  and 
had  only  three  or  four  dollars  left,  I  went  out,  and 
after  a  long  but  half-hearted  battle  gave  up,  as 
such  are  always  lost,  and  turned  into  a  street 
across  an  alley  from  my  office  where  I  knew  there 

250 


THE  GULF 

was  a  gambling  place  over  a  saloon  kept  by  one 
Mick  Raffity.  I  went  boldly  up  the  stairs.  Even 
as  I  mounted  them  I  felt  a  sort  of  exhilaration.  I 
stopped  at  the  door  and  my  old  resolution  not  to 
play  again  stirred  and  struggled  a  little.  I  caught 
it,  however,  with  a  sort  of  grip  almost  physical, 
and  gave  it  a  shake  till  it  was  quiet.  I  knew  I 
should  win.  The  blaze  of  light  within  cheered 
me,  and,  without  hesitating  an  instant,  I  walked 
across  the  room  to  where  a  crowd  stood  watching 
the  play  of  some  one  seated  at  a  table.  It  was 
a  large  and  richly  decorated  room,  with  a  few 
rather  daring  pictures  on  the  walls  and  much 
gilding  about  the  ceiling.  The  hot  air,  heavy  with 
tobacco  smoke  and  fumes  of  one  kind  and  another, 
met  me  in  a  blast  as  I  entered,  and  involuntarily 
I  thought  of  a  sweat-shop  I  had  once  seen  in  my 
earlier  days.  But  the  sensation  passed  and  left 
me  warm  and  exhilarated.  As  I  passed  along,  a 
man  looked  at  me  and  half  nodded.  I  knew  he 
was  the  proprietor.  I  made  my  way  in  and 
caught  the  dealer's  expressionless  eye,  and  taking 
out  a  note  as  carelessly  as  if  my  pockets  were 
stuffed  with  them,  I  glanced  over  the  board  to 
select  my  bet.  At  one  end  of  the  table  sat  the 
large,  heavy-browed  middle-aged  man  I  had  run 
into  one  night  on  the  stairway  leading  from  the 

251 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

alley  to  the  building  where  I  had  my  office.  He 
was  somewhat  tipsy  and  evidently  in  bad  luck, 
for  he  was  heated  and  was  betting  wildly.  Near 
by  sat  a  big,  sour-looking  fellow,  flashily  dressed, 
whom  I  recognized  as  having  been  one  of  my 
fellow-travellers  on  the  side-tracked  train,  the  one 
who  had  talked  to  the  trainmen  of  their  wrongs. 
He  still  wore  his  paste  diamonds,  his  silk  hat,  and 
patent-leather  shoes.  But  I  took  little  notice  of 
these.  Casually,  as  I  dropped  my  note,  my  eye 
fell  on  the  player  at  the  middle  of  the  table.  He 
was  surrounded  by  stacks  of  chips.  As  I  looked 
he  raked  in  a  new  pile ;  at  least  a  hundred  dollars, 
and  he  never  changed  a  particle.  He  was  calmer 
than  the  dealer  before  him.  He  was  in  evening 
dress  and  success  had  given  him  quite  an  air.  I 
caught  up  my  note  without  knowing  it  and  fell 
back  behind  a  group  of  young  men  who  had  just 
come  up.  Curious  things  happen  sometimes.  I 
found  my  note  doubled  up  in  my  hand  when  I  got 
out  of  doors,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later.  All  I 
remember  is  my  revulsion  at  seeing  that  gambler 
sitting  there  raking  in  money  so  calmly,  with  my 
money  for  his  stake  in  his  pocket,  and  I  turned 
out  for  him :  an  adventurer  who  said  all  American 
women  were  at  his  bidding.  It  recalled  to  me  the 
girl  I  had  seen  on  the  train  and  had  handed,  later, 

252 


THE  GULF 

into  her  carriage,  and  the  good  resolutions  I  had 
formed.  And  it  strung  me  up  like  wine.  I  felt 
that  I  was  a  coward  to  have  come  there  and  as 
bad  as  Pushkin. 

Just  as  I  turned  to  leave  the  place  a  party  of 
young  fellows  entered  the  room.  They  had  come 
from  a  dinner  at  Mr.  Leigh's,  as  I  understood  from 
their  talk,  and  were  "going  on"  to  a  dance  unless 
the  luck  should  run  to  suit  them.  They  were  in 
high  spirits,  "Mr.  Leigh's  champagne"  having 
done  its  work,  and  they  were  evidently  habitue's 
of  the  place,  and  good  patrons,  I  judged,  from  the 
obsequious  respect  paid  them  by  the  attendants. 
The  leader  of  them  was  a  large,  rather  good-looking 
young  fellow,  but  with  marks  of  dissipation  on  a 
face  without  a  line  of  refinement  in  it.  The  others 
all  seemed  to  be  his  followers.  They  greeted 
familiarly  and  by  name  the  eager  attendants  who 
rushed  forward  to  take  their  coats,  and  the  leader 
asked  them  casually  who  was  in  to-night. 

"The  count's  here,  I  think,  sir,"  said  one 
whom  they  called  Billy. 

"The  count!  Coll  McSheen's  staked  him  again," 
said  the  young  leader.  "And  he  swore  to  me  he'd 
never  let  him  have  another  cent,  with  oaths 
enough  to  damn  him  deeper  than  he  will  be 
damned  anyhow.  Come  on,  I'll  skin  him  clean." 

253 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  lingered  for  a  moment  to  see  him  "skin" 
Pushkin. 

They  sauntered  up  to  the  table  and,  after  a 
greeting  to  the  count,  began  to  toss  bills  on  the 
board  as  though  they  grew  on  trees.  The  least 
of  them  would  have  kept  me  going  for  months. 
I  had  never  seen  money  handled  so  before  and  it 
staggered  me. 

"Who  is  that  young  man?"  I  asked  of  a  man 
near  me,  nodding  toward  the  leader.  "He  must 
be  pretty  rich." 

"Rich!  You  bet.  He's  Jim  Canter.  Got  all  his 
daddy's  money  and  going  to  get  all  the  Argand 
and  Leigh  piles  some  day.  He'll  need  it,  too," 
added  my  informant. 

"I  should  think  so."  I  recalled  his  name  in 
connection  with  Miss  Leigh's  name  in  the  account 
of  the  ball,  and  I  was  feeling  a  little  bitter. 

"Why,  he'd  just  as  lief  try  to  corner  water  as 
to  bet  a  hundred  dollar  bill  on  a  card.  This  is 
just  play  to  him.  He'd  give  all  he'd  win  to-night 
to  any  one  of  his  women." 

"His  women?" 

"Yes.    He's  one  of  the  real  upper  class." 

"The  upper  class! "  So  this  was  the  idea  of  the 
upper  class  held  by  this  man  and  his  kind!  My 
soul  revolted  at  the  thought  of  this  man  standing 

254 


THE  GULF 

as  the  type  of  our  upper  class,  and  I  was  turning 
away  when  Pushkin  shoved  back  his  chair.    As 
I  turned  he  looked  up  and  I  saw  him  start,  though 
I  did  not  catch  his  glance.    The  dealer  saw  him, 
too,  and  as  he  looked  at  me  I  caught  his  eye.    He 
motioned  to  me,  but  I  took  no  notice.    As  I 
walked  out  the  man  near  the  door  spoke  to  me. 
"There's  supper  in  the  next  room." 
"Thank  you.    I  don't  want  it." 
"Come  in  again.    Better  luck  to-morrow." 
"For  you,  I  hope,"  I  said,  and  I  saw  his  mysti 
fication. 

I  had  of  late  been  having  an  uncomfortable 
thought  which  was  beginning  to  worry  me.  The 
idea  of  doing  away  with  myself  had  suggested  it 
self  to  me  from  time  to  time.  I  do  not  mean  that 
I  ever  thought  I  should  really  do  it;  for  when  I 
reflected  seriously,  I  knew  I  should  not.  In  the 
first  place,  I  was  afraid;  and  in  the  next  place,  I 
never  gave  up  the  belief  that  I  should  some  day 
achieve  success.  When  I  analyzed  my  feelings 
I  found  that  the  true  name  for  my  unhappiness 
was  egotism.  But  the  idea  would  come  up  to  me 
and  now  began  to  pester  me.  I  had  a  pistol 
which  I  could  never  bring  myself  to  pawn,  though 
nearly  everything  else  was  pledged.  I  put  the 
pistol  away;  but  this  did  not  help  matters;  it 

255 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

looked  like  cowardice.  So  that  evening  I  had 
taken  the  pistol  out  and  put  it  into  my  pocket 
when  I  went  into  the  street.  If  I  could  only 
catch  some  burglar  breaking  into  a  bank,  or  some 
ruffian  beating  a  woman,  or  some  scoundrel  com 
mitting  any  crime,  it  would  attract  attention, 
and  I  might  get  work.  I  often  used  to  think 
thus,  but  nothing  ever  happened,  and  I  knew 
nothing  would  happen  that  evening  when  I  walked 
out  of  the  gambling  house.  So  presently  the 
pistol  began  to  be  in  my  way,  and  my  mind  went 
to  working  again  on  the  ease  with  which  I  could 
go  to  my  office  and  lock  myself  in.  Still  I  kept 
on,  and  presently  I  found  myself  near  the  river, 
a  black  stream  that  I  had  often  thought  of  as 
the  Styx.  It  was  as  black  and  silent  now,  as  it 
slipped  on  in  the  darkness,  as  the  River  of  Death. 
I  was  sauntering  along,  chewing  the  cud  of 
fancy,  wholly  bitter — and  sinking  lower  and  lower 
every  step  in  the  slough  of  despond,  working  over 
what  would  come  if  I  should  suddenly  chuck  up 
the  whole  business  and  get  out  of  life — pondering 
how  I  should  destroy  all  marks  by  which  there 
could  be  any  possibility  of  identification,  when 
the  current  of  my  thoughts,  if  that  moody  train 
of  dismal  reflection  could  be  dignified  with  such  a 
name,  was  turned  aside  by  a  small  incident.  As 

256 


THE  GULF 

I  wandered  on  in  the  darkness,  the  figure  of  a 
woman  standing — a  shadow  in  the  shadow — at  a 
corner  of  an  alley  arrested  my  attention.  Even 
in  the  gloom  the  attitude  of  dejection  was  such  as 
to  strike  me,  and  I  saw  or  felt,  I  know  not  which, 
that  her  eyes  were  on  me,  and  that  in  some  dim, 
distant  way  they  contained  an  appeal.  I  saw 
that  she  was  young,  and  in  the  dusk  the  oval 
outline  of  a  face  that  might  have  both  refinement 
and  beauty  challenged  my  attention.  Was  she  a 
beggar  or  only  an  unhappy  outcast,  waiting  in  the 
darkness  for  the  sad  reward  which  evil  chance 
might  fling  to  her  wretchedness?  I  put  my  hand 
in  my  pocket,  thinking  that  she  might  beg  of  me, 
and  I  would  give  her  a  small  portion  of  my  slender 
store,  but  she  said  nothing  and  I  passed  on. 
After  a  little,  however,  still  thinking  of  her  de 
jected  air  and  with  a  sudden  sympathy  for  her 
wretchedness,  I  turned  back.  She  was  still 
standing  where  I  left  her.  I  passed  slowly  by  her, 
but  she  said  nothing,  though  I  felt  again  that  her 
eyes  were  on  me.  Then  my  curiosity  or  possibly, 
I  may  say,  my  interest,  being  aroused,  I  turned 
again  and  walked  by  her. 

"Why  so  sad  to-night?"  I  said,  with  words 
which  might  have  appeared  flippant,  but  in  a 
tone  which  she  instantly  recognized  for  sympathy. 

257 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

She  turned  half  away  and  said  nothing  and  I 
stood  silent  watching  her,  for  her  face  must  once 
have  been  almost  beautiful,  though  it  was  now 
sadly  marred,  and  an  ugly  scar  across  her  eye  and 
cheek,  as  if  it  might  have  come  from  the  slash  of 
a  razor,  made  that  side  drawn  and  distorted. 

"Do  you  want  money?" 

She  slowly  shook  her  head  without  looking  at 
me. 

"What  is  it,  then?    Maybe,  I  can  help  you?" 

She  turned  slowly  and  looked  at  me  with  such 
indescribable  hopelessness  in  her  face  that  my 
heart  went  out  to  her. 

"No,  I'm  past  help  now." 

"Oh,  no,  you're  not."  My  spirits  rose  with  the 
words,  and  I  felt  suddenly  as  if  I  had  risen  out  of 
the  slough  which  had  been  engulfing  me,  and  as 
though  I  had  gotten  my  feet  on  a  firm  place  where 
I  could  reach  out  a  hand  to  help  this  despairing 
and  sinking  sister. 

"Yes,  past  help  now." 

"Come  and  walk  with  me."  And  as  she  did 
not  stir,  I  took  her  hand  and  drew  it  through  my 
arm  and  gently  led  her  forward  along  the  street. 
I  had  a  strange  feeling  as  I  walked  along.  I 
somehow  felt  as  though  I  had  escaped  from  some 
thing  which  had  been  dragging  me  down.  It  was 

258 


THE  GULF 

a  strange  walk  and  a  strange  and  tragic  story  that 
she  told  me — of  having  left  her  home  in  the  coun 
try,  inspired  by  the  desire  to  do  something  and 
be  something  more  than  she  was,  a  simple  farmer's 
daughter  in  another  State,  with  some  little  edu 
cation  such  as  the  country  schools  could  give; 
of  having  secured  a  position  in  a  big  shop  where, 
for  a  small  sum,  she  worked  all  day  and  learned 
to  see  and  love  fine  clothes  and  beautiful  things; 
of  having  fallen  in  with  one  or  two  gay  com 
panions  in  this  and  other  shops  who  wore  the  fine 
clothes  and  had  the  beautiful  things  she  admired; 
of  having  been  put  forward  because  she  was  pretty 
and  polite ;  and  then  of  having  met  a  young  man, 
well  dressed  and  with  fine  manners;  of  having 
fallen  in  love  with  him  and  of  having  accepted 
his  attentions  and  his  gifts;  and  then,  of  having 
been  led  astray  by  him;  and  then — of  such  an 
act  of  base  betrayal  as,  had  I  not  had  it  sub 
stantiated  afterward  in  every  horrid  detail,  I 
should  never  have  believed.  I  had  known  some 
thing  of  the  wickedness  of  men  and  the  evil  of  an 
uncontrolled  life  in  the  city,  where  the  vilest  pas 
sions  of  the  heart  are  given  play,  but  I  had  never 
dreamed  of  anything  so  revolting  as  the  story 
this  girl  told  me  that  night.  She  had  been  delib 
erately  and  with  malice  aforethought  lured  not 

259 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

only  to  her  destruction  but  to  a  life  of  slavery 
so  vile  as  to  be  unbelievable.  The  man  who  had 
secured  her  heart  used  his  power  over  her  to  seize 
and  sell  her  into  a  slavery  for  which  there  is  no 
name  which  could  be  used  on  the  printed  page. 
Here,  stricken  by  the  horror  of  her  situation,  she 
had  attempted  to  escape  from  her  captors,  but 
had  been  bodily  beaten  into  submission.  Then 
she  had  made  a  wild  dash  for  liberty  and  had 
been  seized  and  slashed  with  a  knife  until  she  fell 
under  her  wounds  and  her  life  was  in  imminent 
danger. 

From  this  time  she  gave  up  and  became  the 
slave  of  the  woman  of  the  house:  "Smooth  Ally," 
she  said  they  called  her;  but  she  would  not  give 
me  her  name  or  her  address.  She  would  have 
her  killed,  she  feared,  if  she  did  so.  Here  she 
gradually  had  yielded  to  her  fate  and  had  lived 
in  company  with  her  other  slaves,  some  willing, 
some  as  unwilling  as  herself,  until  finally  her  place 
was  needed  for  one  more  useful  to  her  owner, 
when  she  had  been  handed  on  from  one  owner  to 
another,  always  sinking  in  the  scale  lower  and 
lower,  until  at  last  she  had  been  turned  into  the 
street  with  her  choice  limited  only  to  the  river  or 
the  gutter.  Long  before  she  had  finished  her 
story  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that  life  still  held 

260 


THE  GULF 

for  me  something  which  I  might  do,  however 
poor  and  useless  I  knew  myself  to  be.  The  only 
person  I  could  think  of  who  might  help  her  was 
Miss  Leigh.  How  could  I  reach  her?  Could  I 
write  her  of  this  poor  creature?  She  could  not  go 
back  to  her  home,  she  said,  for  she  knew  that  they 
had  heard  of  her  life,  and  they  were  "good  and 
Christian  people."  She  used  to  write  to  and  hear 
from  them,  but  it  had  been  two  years  and  more 
since  she  had  written  or  heard  now.  Still  she 
gave  me  what  she  said  was  her  father's  address 
in  another  State,  and  I  told  her  I  would  find  out 
how  they  felt  about  her  and  would  let  her  know. 
I  gave  her  a  part  of  what  I  had.  It  was  very 
little,  and  I  have  often  wished  since  then  that  I 
had  had  the  courage  to  give  her  all. 

I  was  walking  on  with  her,  trying  to  think  of 
some  place  where  she  might  find  a  shelter  and  be 
taken  care  of  until  her  friends  could  be  informed 
where  she  was,  when,  in  one  of  the  streets  in  front 
of  a  bar-room,  we  heard  mingled  laughter  and 
singing  and  found  a  group  of  young  men,  ruffians 
and  loafers,  standing  on  the  sidewalk,  laughing  at 
the  singers  who  stood  in  the  street.  As  we  drew 
near,  I  saw  that  the  latter  were  a  small  group  of 
the  Salvation  Army,  and  it  appeared  to  me  a 
providence.  Here  were  some  who  might  help 

261 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

her.  At  the  moment  that  we  approached  they 
ended  the  dirge-like  hymn  they  had  been  singing, 
and  kneeling  down  in  the  street  one  of  them  offered 
a  prayer,  after  which  a  woman  handed  around 
something  like  a  tambourine,  asking  for  a  collec 
tion.  The  jeers  that  she  encountered  might  have 
daunted  a  much  bolder  spirit  than  mine,  and  as 
each  man  either  put  in  or  pretended  to  put  some 
thing  in,  one  a  cent,  another  a  button  or  a  cigarette 
stump,  she  responded,  "Thank  you  and  God  bless 
you."  I  was  ashamed  to  make  an  appeal  to  them 
there  for  the  poor  girl,  so  I  walked  with  her  a 
little  further  on  and  waited  until  the  blue-clad 
detachment  came  along  and  their  tormentors  re 
tired  to  warm  themselves,  without  and  within,  in 
the  saloon  in  front  of  which  they  had  been  stand 
ing.  I  accosted  the  woman  who  had  taken  up 
the  collection  and  asked  her  if  she  could  take  care 
of  a  poor  girl  who  needed  help  badly,  and  I  was 
struck  by  the  kindness  with  which  she  turned  and, 
after  a  moment's  glance,  held  out  her  hand  to  the 
girl. 

"Come  with  us,"  she  said,  "and  we  will  take 
you  where  you  will  find  friends." 

Even  then  the  young  woman  appeared  too 
frightened  to  accept  her  invitation.  She  clung  to 
me  and  seemed  to  rely  upon  me,  asking  me  to  go 

262 


THE  GULF 

with  her,  but  partly  from  shame  and  partly  from 
what  may  possibly  have  been  a  better  motive,  I 
told  her  my  way  led  elsewhere,  and,  after  per 
suasion,  she  went  with  the  Salvationists,  and  I 
walked  home  happier  than  I  had  been  in  some 
time. 

I  even  took  some  steps  to  call  public  attention 
to  the  horrible  story  the  poor  Magdalen  had  told 
me  of  her  frightful  experience,  and  actually  wrote 
it  up ;  but  when  I  took  it  to  a  paper — the  one  that 
had  published  my  first  article — I  was  given  to 
understand  that  the  account  was  quite  incredible. 
The  editor,  a  fox-faced  man  of  middle  age,  with 
whom  my  paper  secured  me  the  honor  of  an  inter 
view,  informed  me  that  the  story  was  an  old  one, 
and  that  they  had  investigated  it  thoroughly, 
and  found  it  without  the  slightest  foundation. 
If  I  wanted  further  proof  of  this,  he  said,  he  would 
refer  me  to  Mr.  Collis  McSheen,  one  of  the  leading 
lawyers  in  the  city,  who  had  conducted  the  inves 
tigation. 


263 


xvm 

THE  DBUMMER 

T  BELIEVE  Mrs.  Kale  would  have  let  me  stay 
on  free  almost  indefinitely;  for  she  was  a 
kind-hearted  soul,  much  imposed  on  by  her 
boarders.  But  I  had  been  playing  the  gentle 
man  there,  and  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  come 
down  in  her  esteem.  I  really  did  not  know 
whether  I  should  be  able  to  continue  to  pay  her; 
so  when  my  time  was  up,  I  moved  again,  to  my 
landlady's  great  surprise,  and  she  thought  me 
stuck  up  and  ungrateful,  and  was  a  little  hurt 
over  it,  when,  in  fact,  I  only  did  not  want  to  cheat 
her,  and  was  moving  out  to  the  poorest  part  of 
the  city,  to  a  little  house  on  which  I  had  observed, 
one  afternoon  during  one  of  my  strolls,  the  notice 
of  a  room  for  rent  at  a  dollar  a  week.  I  think  a 
rose-bush  carefully  trained  over  the  door  decided 
me  to  take  it.  It  gave  me  a  bit  of  home-feeling. 
The  violet,  of  course,  is  in  color  and  delicacy  the 
half-ethereal  emblem  of  the  tenderest  sentiment 
of  the  heart.  "The  violets  all  withered  when  my 

264 


THE  DRUMMER 

father  died,"  sighed  poor  Ophelia.  And  next  to 
violets,  a  rose-bush,  growing  in  the  sun  and  dew 
has  ever  stood  to  me  for  the  purest  sentiment  that 
the  heart  can  hold. 

I  heard  shortly  afterward  of  the  engagement  of 
Miss  Lilian  Poole  to  the  man  she  used  to  laugh  at ; 
but  after  a  single  wave  of  mortification  that  Peck 
should  have  won  where  I  had  lost,  I  did  not  mind 
it.  I  went  out  to  look  at  the  sunny  house  with  the 
trees  and  the  rose-bushes  about  it  and  wonder 
how  I  could  meet  Miss  Leigh. 

The  room  I  took  when  I  left  Mrs.  Kale's  was 
only  a  cupboard  some  nine  feet  by  six  in  the  little 
house  I  have  mentioned;  but  it  was  spotlessly 
clean,  like  the  kind-looking,  stout,  blue-eyed 
Teuton  woman  who,  with  skirt  tucked  up,  came 
to  the  door  when  I  applied  for  lodging,  and,  as 
the  price  was  nearer  my  figure  than  any  other  I 
had  seen,  I  closed  with  Mrs.  Loewen,  and  the 
afternoon  I  left  Mrs.  Kale's  sent  my  trunk  over 
in  advance.  It  held  the  entire  accumulation  of 
my  life.  There  was  something  about  the  place 
and  the  woman  that  attracted  me.  As  poor  as 
the  house  was,  it  was  beyond  the  squalid  quarter 
and  well  out  in  the  edge  of  the  city,  with  a  bit  of 
grass  before  it,  and  there  were  not  only  plants  in 
the  windows  well  cared  for,  but  there  was  even  a 

265 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

rose-bush  beside  the  door  making  a  feeble  attempt 
to  clamber  over  it  with  the  aid  of  strings  and  straps 
carefully  adjusted. 

The  only  question  my  landlady  asked  me  was 
whether  I  was  a  musician,  and  when  I  told  her  no, 
but  that  I  was  very  fond  of  music,  she  appeared 
satisfied.  Her  husband,  she  said,  was  a  drummer. 

I  asked  if  I  might  bring  my  dog,  and  she 
assented  even  to  this. 

"Elsa  was  fond  of  animals,"  she  said. 

When  I  bade  good-by  to  Mrs.  Kale  and  my 
friends  at  the  boarding-house,  I  was  pleased  at 
the  real  regret  they  showed  at  my  leaving.  Miss 
Pansy  and  Miss  Pinky  came  down  to  the  drawing- 
room  in  their  "best"  to  say  good-by;  Miss  Pinky 
with  her  "scratch"  quite  straight.  And  Miss 
Pansy  said  if  they  ever  went  back  home  she  hoped 
very  much  that  I  would  honor  them  by  coming  to 
see  them,  while  Miss  Pinky,  with  a  more  practical 
turn,  hoped  I  would  come  and  see  them  "there— 
and  you  may  even  bring  your  dog  with  you,"  she 
added,  with  what  I  knew  was  a  proof  of  real 
friendship.  I  promised  faithfully  to  come,  for  I 
was  touched  by  the  kindness  of  the  two  old  ladies 
who,  like  myself,  had  slipped  from  the  sphere  in 
which  they  had  belonged,  and  I  was  rather  grim 
at  the  reflection  that  they  had  been  brought  there 

266 


THE  DRUMMER 

by  others,  while  I  had  no  one  to  blame  but 
myself — a  solemn  fact  I  was  just  beginning  to 
face. 

When  I  walked  out  of  the  house  I  was  in  a 
rather  low  state  of  mind.  I  felt  that  it  was  the 
last  day  when  I  could  make  any  pretension  to 
being  a  gentleman.  I  had  been  slipping  down, 
down,  and  now  I  was  very  near  the  bottom.  So 
I  wandered  on  in  the  street  with  Dix  at  my  heels 
and  my  pistol  in  my  pocket. 

Just  then  a  notice  of  a  concert,  placarded  on  a 
wall,  caught  my  eye,  and  I  gave  myself  a  shake 
together  as  an  unmitigated  ass,  and  determined 
suddenly  that  I  needed  some  amusement  and  that 
a  better  use  for  the  pistol  would  be  to  sell  it  and 
go  to  the  concert.  I  would,  at  least,  be  a  gentle 
man  once  more,  and  then  to-morrow  I  could  start 
afresh.  So  I  hunted  up  a  pawnshop  and  raising 
from  the  villain  who  kept  it  a  few  dollars  on  my 
pistol,  had  a  good  supper  and  then  took  Dix  home 
and  went  to  the  symphony.  As  it  happened,  I 
got  one  of  the  best  seats  in  the  house.  It  was  a 
revelation  to  me — a  revolution  in  my  thoughts 
and  feelings:  the  great  audience,  gay  with  silks 
and  flowers  and  jewels,  filling  up  all  the  space 
about  and  above  me  rising  up  to  the  very  top  of 
the  vast  auditorium.  I  did  not  have  time  at  first 

267 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

to  observe  them,  I  only  felt  them;  for  just  as  I 
entered  the  Director  came  out  and  the  audience 
applauded.  It  exhilarated  me  like  wine;  I  felt 
as  if  it  had  been  myself  they  were  applauding. 
Then  the  music  began:  The  "Tannhauser  Over 
ture."  It  caught  me  up  and  bore  me  away: 
knighthood  and  glory  and  love  were  all  about 
me;  the  splendor  of  the  contest;  the  struggle  in 
which  a  false  step,  a  cowardly  weakness  might 
fling  away  the  world;  the  reward  that  awaited  the 
victor,  and  the  curse  if  he  gave  way,  till  I  found 
myself  dazzled,  amazed,  and  borne  down  by 
the  deluge  of  harmonious  sound — and  could  do 
nothing  but  lie  drifting  at  the  mercy  of  the 
whelming  tide,  and  watch,  half-drowned,  what 
ever  object  caught  my  eye.  The  first  thing  I 
took  in  was  the  tall  old  Drummer  who  towered 
above  the  great  bank  of  dark  bodies  with  sway 
ing  arms.  Still  and  solemn  he  appeared  out  of 
the  mist,  and  seemed  like  some  landmark  which  I 
must  hold  on  to  if  I  would  not  be  swept  away. 
No  one  appeared  to  pay  much  attention  to  him, 
and  he  appeared  oblivious  of  all  but  his  drums. 
Now  he  leant  over  them  and  listened  to  their 
throbbing,  now  he  beat  as  if  the  whole  world  de 
pended  on  it.  I  held  on  to  him  and  felt  somehow 
as  if  he  were  the  one  to  whom  the  Director  looked 

268 


THE  DRUMMER 

— the  centre  of  all  the  music  and   pomp   and 
mystery,  and  I  must  keep  him  in  sight. 

I  don't  know  much  of  what  came  on  the  pro 
gramme  after  that;  for  I  was  awakened  by  the 
storm  of  applause  which  followed  and  during  the 
intermission  I  looked  about  at  the  audience  around 
me.  They  filled  the  house  from  floor  to  roof, 
every  seat  was  occupied,  and  the  boxes  looked 
like  banks  of  flowers.  All  the  faces  were  strange 
to  me,  though,  and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  lonely 
again,  and  was  turning  to  my  old  Drummer,  when, 
sweeping  the  boxes,  my  eye  fell  on  a  girl  who 
caught  me  at  once.  She  was  sitting  a  little  for 
ward  looking  across  toward  the  orchestra  with  so 
serious  an  expression  on  her  lovely  face  that  I  felt 
drawn  to  her  even  before  I  took  in  that  she  was 
the  girl  I  had  seen  on  the  train  and  whom  I  had 
handed  into  her  carriage.  As  I  gazed  at  her  this 
came  to  me — and  with  it  such  a  warm  feeling 
about  my  heart  as  I  had  not  had  in  a  long  time. 
I  looked  at  the  men  about  her,  one  of  whom  was 
the  good-looking  clergyman,  Dr.  Capon,  and  the 
next  instant  all  my  blood  was  boiling — there, 
bending  down  over  her,  talking  into  her  ear,  so 
close  to  her  that  she  had  to  sit  forward  to  escape 
his  polluting  touch,  was  the  gambler  whom  I  had 
heard  say  not  three  weeks  before  that  every 

269 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

American  girl  was  open  to  a  proposal  from  him. 
I  don't  know  really  what  happened  after  that. 
I  only  remember  wishing  I  had  my  pistol  back — 
and  being  glad  that  I  had  pawned  it,  not  sold  it; 
for  I  made  up  my  mind  anew  in  that  theatre  that 
night  to  live  and  succeed,  and  preserve  that  girl 
from  that  adventurer.  When  the  concert  was 
over  I  watched  the  direction  they  took,  and  made 
my  way  through  the  crowd  to  the  exit  by  which 
they  would  go  into  the  foyer.  There  I  waited 
and  presently  they  came  along.  She  was  sur 
rounded  by  a  little  party  and  was  laughing 
heartily  over  something  one  of  them  had  just  said, 
and  was  looking,  in  the  rich  pink  wrap  which  en 
veloped  her,  like  a  rich  pink  rosebud.  I  was 
gazing  at  her  intently,  and  caught  her  eye,  and, 
no  doubt  struck  by  my  look  of  recognition,  she 
bowed.  She  had  not  really  thought  of  me,  she 
was  still  thinking  of  what  had  been  said,  and  it 
was  only  a  casual  bow  to  some  one  in  a  crowd 
who  knows  you  and  catches  your  eye;  but  it  was 
a  bow,  and  it  was  a  smiling  one,  and  again  that 
warm  feeling  surged  about  my  heart  which  had 
come  when  I  met  her  on  the  street.  The  next 
second  that  fellow  came  along.  He  was  taller 
than  most  of  the  crowd,  and  well  dressed;  was 
really  a  handsome  enough  fellow  but  for  his  cold 

270 


THE  DRUMMER 

eyes  and  hard  look.  The  eyes  were  too  bold  and 
the  chin  not  bold  enough.  He  was  walking  be 
side  a  large,  blondish  girl  with  shallow  blue  eyes, 
who  appeared  much  pleased  with  herself  or  with 
him,  but  at  the  moment  he  was  bowing  his  adieux 
to  her  while  she  was  manifestly  trying  to  hold  on 
to  him. 

"I  don't  think  you  are  nice  a  bit,"  I  heard  her 
say,  petulantly,  as  they  came  up  to  me.  "You 
have  not  taken  the  least  notice  of  me  to-night." 

This  he  evidently  repudiated,  for  she  pouted 
and  smiled  up  at  him.  "Well,  then,  I'll  excuse 
you  this  time,  but  you  needn't  be  running  after 
her.  She  won't " 

I  did  not  hear  the  rest.  I  was  thinking  of  the 
girl  before  me. 

He  was  looking  over  the  heads  of  the  people 
before  him,  and  the  next  moment  was  elbowing 
his  way  to  overtake  my  young  lady.  Close  to 
him  in  the  crowd,  as  he  came  on,  stood  Mrs. 
Starling's  daughter,  painted,  and  in  her  best 
finery,  and  I  saw  her  imploring  eyes  fastened  on 
him  eagerly.  He  glanced  at  her  and  she  bowed 
with  a  gratified  light  dawning  in  her  face.  I  saw 
his  face  harden.  He  cut  her  dead.  Poor  girl! 
I  saw  her  pain  and  the  look  of  disappointment  as 
she  furtively  followed  him  with  her  eyes.  He 

271 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

pushed  on  after  my  young  lady.  But  I  was  ahead 
of  him.  Just  before  he  reached  her,  I  slipped  in, 
and  when  he  attempted  to  push  by  I  stood  firm 
before  him. 

"Beg  pardon,"  he  said,  trying  to  put  me  aside 
to  step  ahead  of  me.  I  turned  my  head  and  over 
my  shoulder  looked  him  in  the  face. 

"I  beg  your  pardon." 

"Oh!"  he  said.    "How  do?    Let  me  by." 

"To  ply  your  old  trade?"  I  asked,  looking  into 
his  eyes,  over  my  shoulder. 

"Ah!"  I  saw  the  rage  come  into  his  face  and 
he  swore  some  foreign  oath.  He  put  his  hand  on 
my  shoulder  to  push  me  aside;  but  I  half  turned 
and  looked  him  straight  in  the  eyes  and  his  grasp 
relaxed.  He  had  felt  my  grip  once — and  he  knew 
I  was  not  afraid  of  him,  and  thought  I  was  a  fool. 
And  his  hand  fell. 

I  walked  in  front  of  him  and  kept  him  back 
until  the  party  with  my  young  lady  in  it  had  passed 
quite  out  of  the  door,  and  then  I  let  him  by.  For 
that  evening,  at  least,  I  had  protected  her. 

I  walked  to  my  lodging  with  a  feeling  of  more 
content  than  I  had  had  in  a  long  time.  My 
heart  had  a  home  though  I  had  none.  It  was  as 
if  the  shell  in  which  I  had  been  cramped  so  long 
were  broken  and  I  should  at  last  step  out  into  a 

272 


"To  ply  your  old  trade?"  I  asked. 


THE  DRUMMER 

new  world.  I  had  a  definite  aim,  and  one  higher 
than  I  ever  had  had  before.  I  was  in  love  with 
that  girl  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  win  her. 
As  I  walked  along  through  the  gradually  empty 
ing  streets  my  old  professor's  words  came  to  me. 
They  had  been  verified.  I  reviewed  my  past  life 
and  saw  as  clearly  as  if  in  a  mirror  my  failures  and 
false  steps.  I  had  moped  and  sulked  with  the 
world;  I  had  sat  in  my  cubby-hole  of  an  office 
with  all  my  talents  as  deeply  buried  as  if  I  had 
been  under  the  mounds  of  Troy,  and  had  expected 
men  to  unearth  me  as  though  I  had  been  treasure. 
It  may  appear  to  some  that  I  exaggerated  my 
feeling  for  a  girl  whom  I  scarcely  knew  at  all. 
But  love  is  the  least  conventional  of  passions; 
his  victory  the  most  unexpected  and  unaccount 
able.  He  may  steal  into  the  heart  like  a  thief  or 
burst  in  like  a  robber.  The  zephyr  is  not  so 
wooing,  the  hurricane  not  so  furious.  Samson 
and  Hercules  lose  their  strength  in  his  presence 
and,  shorn  of  their  power,  surrender  at  discretion. 
Mightier  than  Achilles,  wilier  than  Ulysses,  he 
leads  them  both  captive,  and,  behind  them  in  his 
train,  the  long  line  of  captains  whom  Petrarch 
has  catalogued  as  his  helpless  slaves.  Why  should 
it  then  be  thought  strange  that  a  poor,  weak, 
foolish,  lonely  young  man  should  fall  before  him 

273 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

at  his  first  onset!  I  confess,  I  thought  it  foolish, 
and  yet  so  weak  was  I  that  I  welcomed  the  arrow 
that  pierced  my  heart,  and  as  I  sauntered  home 
ward  through  the  emptying  streets,  I  hugged  to 
my  breast  the  joy  that  I  loved  once  more. 

As  I  was  on  the  point  of  ringing  the  door-bell 
there  was  a  heavy  step  behind  me,  and  there  was 
my  old  Drummer  coming  along.  He  turned  in 
at  the  little  gate.  And  I  explained  that  I  was 
his  new  lodger  and  had  been  to  hear  him  play. 

"Ah!    You  mean  to  hear  the  orchestra?" 

"No,  I  don't.  I  meant,  to  hear  you — I  went 
to  the  concert,  but  I  enjoyed  you  most." 

"Ah!"  he  chuckled  at  the  flattery,  and  let  me 
in,  and  taking  a  survey  of  me,  invited  me  to  come 
and  have  a  bit  of  supper  with  him,  which  I  ac 
cepted.  His  wife  came  in  and  waited  on  us,  and 
he  told  her  what  I  had  said,  with  pleasure,  and 
she  laughed  over  it  and  rallied  him  and  accepted 
it,  and  accepted  me  instantly  as  an  old  friend. 
It  gave  me  a  new  feeling. 

A  few  minutes  later  there  was  another  arrival. 
A  knock  on  the  street  door,  and  the  mother, 
smiling  and  winking  at  her  husband,  went  and 
let  in  the  new-comers:  a  plump,  round-cheeked 
girl,  the  mingled  likeness  of  her  two  parents,  with 
red  cheeks,  blue  eyes,  smooth  flaxen  hair,  and  that 

274 


THE  DRUMMER 

heifer-like  look  of  shyness  and  content  which 
Teuton  maidens  have,  and  behind  her  a  strapping-1 
looking  young  fellow  with  powerful  shoulders, 
and  a  neck  cased  in  a  net  of  muscles,  a  clear  pink 
skin  and  blue  eyes,  and  with  a  roll  in  his  gait 
partly  the  effect  of  his  iron  muscles  and  partly  of 
mere  bashfulness.  I  was  introduced  and  the  first 
thing  the  mother  did  was  to  repeat  delightedly 
the  compliment  I  had  paid  the  father.  It  had 
gone  home,  and  the  simple  way  the  white  teeth 
shone  around  that  little  circle  and  the  pride  the 
whole  family  took  in  this  poor  bit  of  praise,  told 
their  simplicity  and  warmed  my  heart.  The 
father  and  mother  were  evidently  pleased  with 
their  daughter's  young  man — for  the  mother  con 
stantly  rallied  the  daughter  about  Otto  and  Otto 
about  her,  drawing  the  father  in  with  sly  looks 
and  knowing  tosses  of  her  head,  and  occasionally 
glancing  at  me  to  see  if  I  too  took  in  the  situation. 
Although  I  did  not  yet  know  a  word  of  their 
language,  I  could  understand  perfectly  what  she 
was  saying,  and  I  never  passed  an  evening  that 
gave  me  a  better  idea  of  family  happiness,  or 
greater  satisfaction.  When  I  went  up  to  my 
little  room  I  seemed,  somehow,  to  have  gotten 
into  a  world  of  reality  and  content:  a  new 
world. 

275 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  awaked  in  a  new  world — the  one  I  had  reached 
the  night  before :  the  land  of  hope  and  content — 
and  when  I  came  down-stairs  I  was  as  fresh  as  a 
shriven  soul,  and  I  walked  out  into  the  street  with 
Dix  at  my  heel,  as  though  I  owned  the  earth. 

The  morning  was  as  perfect  as  though  God  had 
just  created  light.  The  sky  was  as  blue  and  the 
atmosphere  as  clear  as  though  the  rain  that  had 
fallen  had  washed  away  with  the  smoke  all  im 
purity  whatsoever,  and  scoured  the  floor  of 
Heaven  afresh. 

Elsa,  with  her  chequered  skirt  turned  back  and 
a  white  apron  about  her  comely  figure,  was  sing 
ing  as  she  polished  the  outer  steps,  before  going 
to  her  work  in  a  box  factory,  and  the  sun  was 
shining  upon  her  bare  head  with  its  smooth  hair, 
and  upon  the  little  rose-bush  by  the  door,  turn 
ing  the  rain-drops  that  still  hung  on  it  into  jewels. 
She  stopped  and  petted  Dix,  who  had  followed 
me  down-stairs,  and  Dix,  who,  like  his  master, 
loved  to  be  petted  by  a  pretty  woman,  laid  back 
his  ears  and  rubbed  his  head  against  her.  And, 
an  hour  later,  a  group  of  little  muddy  boys  with 
their  books  in  their  hands  had  been  beguiled  by  a 
broad  puddle  on  their  way  to  school  and  were 
wading  in  the  mud  and  laughing  over  the  spatters 
and  splotches  they  were  getting  on  their  clothes 

276 


THE  DRUMMER 

and  ruddy  faces.  As  I  watched  them,  one  who 
had  been  squeezed  out  of  the  fun  and  stood  on 
the  sidewalk  looking  on  and  laughing,  suddenly 
seized  with  fear  or  envy  shouted  that  if  they  did 
"not  come  on,  Mith  Thelly  would  keep  them  in"; 
and,  stricken  with  a  sudden  panic,  the  whole  flock 
of  little  sand-pipers  started  off  and  ran  as  hard 
as  their  dumpy  legs  would  carry  them  around  the 
corner.  I  seemed  to  be  emancipated. 

I  made  my  breakfast  on  a  one-cent  loaf  of 
bread,  taking  a  little  street  which,  even  in  that 
section,  was  a  back  street,  to  eat  it  in,  and  for 
butter  amused  myself  watching  a  lot  of  little 
children  (among  the  last  of  whom  I  recognized 
my  muddy  boys,  who  must  have  found  another 
puddle)  lagging  in  at  the  door  of  a  small  old  frame 
building,  which  I  knew  must  be  their  school, 
though  I  could  not  understand  why  it  should  be 
in  such  a  shanty  when  all  the  public  schools  I 
had  seen  were  the  most  palatial  structures. 

I  took  the  trouble  to  go  by  that  day  and  look 
at  the  house  on  the  corner.  It  was  as  sunny  as 
ever.  And  when  on  my  way  back  to  my  office  I 
passed  Miss  Leigh,  the  central  figure  of  a  group 
of  fresh-looking  girls,  I  felt  that  the  half-shy 
smile  of  recognition  which  she  gave  me  was  a 
shaft  of  light  to  draw  my  hopes  to  something 

277 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

better  than  I  had  known.  Dix  was  with  me,  and 
he  promptly  picked  out  his  friend  and  received 
from  her  a  greeting  which,  curiously  enough, 
raised  my  hopes  out  of  all  reason.  I  began  to 
feel  that  the  dog  was  a  link  between  us. 


278 


XIX 

RE-ENTER  PECK 

TT  happened  that  the  building  in  which  I  had 
taken  an  office  bore  a  somewhat  questionable 
reputation.  I  had  selected  it  because  it  was 
cheap,  and  it  was  too  late  when  I  discovered  its 
character.  I  had  no  money  to  move.  The 
lawyers  in  it  were  a  nondescript  lot — criminal 
practitioners,  straw-bail  givers,  haunters  of  police 
courts,  etc. ;  and  the  other  occupants  were  as  bad 
— adventurers  with  wild-cat  schemes,  ticket- 
scalpers,  cranks,  visionaries  with  fads,  frauds, 
gamblers,  and  thieves  in  one  field  or  another, 
with  doubtless  a  good  sprinkling  of  honest  men 
among  them. 

It  was  an  old  building  and  rather  out  of  the  line 
of  the  best  growth  of  the  city,  but  in  a  convenient 
and  crowded  section.  The  lower  floor  was  occu 
pied  with  bucket-shops  and  ticket-scalpers'  of 
fices,  on  the  street;  and  at  the  back,  in  a  sort  of 
annex  on  an  alley,  was  a  saloon  known  as  Mick 
Raffity's;  the  owner  being  a  solid,  double-jointed 
son  of  Erin,  with  blue  eyes  as  keen  as  tacks;  and 

279 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

over  this  saloon  was  the  gambling  house  where  I 
had  been  saved  by  finding  Pushkin. 

On  the  second  floor,  the  best  offices  were  a  suite 
occupied  by  a  lawyer  named  McSheen,  a  person 
of  considerable  distinction,  after  its  own  kind, 
as  was  the  shark  created  with  other  fish  of  the 
sea  after  its  kind;  a  lawyer  of  unusual  shrewd 
ness,  a  keen  political  boss,  and  a  successful  busi 
ness  man.  I  had,  as  happened,  rented  a  cubby 
hole  looking  out  on  a  narrow  well  opposite  the 
rear  room  of  his  suite. 

Collis  McSheen  was  a  large,  brawny  man  with  a 
broad  face,  a  big  nose,  blue  eyes,  grizzled  black 
hair,  a  tight  mouth,  and  a  coarse  fist.  He  would 
have  turned  the  scales  at  two  hundred,  and  he 
walked  with  a  step  as  light  as  a  sick-nurse's.  The 
first  time  I  ever  saw  him  was  when  I  ran  into  him 
suddenly  in  a  winding,  unswept  back  stairway 
that  came  down  on  an  alley  from  the  floor  below 
mine  and  was  used  mainly  by  those  in  a  hurry, 
and  I  was  conscious  even  in  the  dim  light  that  he 
gave  me  a  look  of  great  keenness.  As  he  appeared 
in  a  hurry  I  gave  way  to  him,  with  a  "Beg  par 
don"  for  my  unintentional  jostle,  to  which  he 
made  no  reply  except  a  grunt.  I,  however,  took 
a  good  look  at  him  as  he  passed  along  under  a 
street  lamp,  with  his  firm  yet  noiseless  step — as 

280 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

noiseless  as  a  cat's — and  the  heavy  neck  and  bulk 
gave  me  a  sense  of  his  brute  strength,  which  I  never 
lost  afterward.  I  soon  came  to  know  that  he  was 
a  successful  jury-lawyer  with  a  gift  of  eloquence, 
and  a  knack  of  insinuation,  and  that  he  was 
among  the  most  potent  of  the  political  bosses  of 
the  city,  with  a  power  of  manipulation  unequalled 
by  any  politician  in  the  community.  He  had 
good  manners  and  a  ready  smile.  He  was  the 
attorney  or  legal  agent  for  a  number  of  wealthy 
concerns,  among  them  the  Argand  Estate,  and  had 
amassed  a  fortune.  He  was  also  "the  legal  ad 
viser"  of  one  of  the  afternoon  papers,  the  Trumpet, 
in  which,  as  I  learned  later,  he  held,  though  it  was 
not  generally  known,  a  large  and  potent  interest. 
He  was  now  looming  up  as  the  chief  candidate  of 
the  popular  party  for  mayor,  an  office  which  he 
expected  to  secure  a  few  months  later.  He  was 
interested  in  a  part  of  the  street-car  system  of  the 
city,  that  part  in  which  "the  Argand  Estate" 
held  the  controlling  interest,  and  which  was,  to 
some  extent,  the  rival  system  of  that  known  as 
the  "West  Line,"  in  which  Mr.  Leigh  held  a  large 
interest.  I  mention  these  facts  because,  detached 
as  they  appear,  they  have  a  strong  bearing  on  my 
subsequent  relation  to  McSheen,  and  a  certain 
bearing  on  my  whole  future.  But,  on  occasion 

281 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

he  was  as  ready  for  his  own  purposes  to  attack 
these  interests  secretly  as  those  opposed  to  them. 
He  always  played  his  own  hand.  To  quote 
Kalender,  "he  was  deep." 

My  first  real  meeting  with  him  gave  me  an  im 
pression  of  him  which  I  was  never  able  to  divest 
myself  of.  I  was  in  my  little  dark  cupboard  of 
an  office  very  lonely  and  reading  hard  to  keep  my 
mind  occupied  with  some  other  subject  than  my 
self,  when  the  door  half  opened  quietly,  with  or 
without  a  preliminary  knock,  I  never  could  tell 
which,  and  a  large  man  insinuated  himself  in  at 
it  and,  after  one  keen  look,  smiled  at  me.  I  re 
called  afterward  how  catlike  his  entrance  was. 
But  at  the  moment  I  was  occupied  in  gauging  him. 
Still  smiling  he  moved  noiselessly  around  and  took 
his  stand  with  his  back  to  the  one  window. 

"You  are  Mr.  Glave?"  he  smiled.  "Glad  to 
see  you?"  He  had  not  quite  gotten  rid  of  the 
interrogation. 

I  expressed  my  appreciation  of  his  good-will  and 
with,  I  felt,  even  more  sincerity  than  his;  for  I 
was  glad  to  see  any  one. 

"Always  pleased  to  see  young  lawyers — spe 
cially  bright  ones."  Here  I  smiled  with  pleasure 
that  he  should  so  admirably  have  "sized  me  up," 
as  the  saying  goes. 

282 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

"You  are  a  lawyer  also?"  I  hazarded. 

"Yes.  Yes.  I  see  you  are  studious.  I  always 
like  that  in  a  young  man — gives  him  breadth — 
scope." 

I  assented  and  explained  that  I  had  been  in 
politics  a  little  also,  all  of  which  he  appeared  to 
think  in  my  favor.  And  so  it  went  on  till  he  knew 
nearly  all  about  me.  In  fact,  I  became  quite 
communicative.  It  had  been  so  long  since  I  had 
had  a  lawyer  to  talk  with.  I  found  him  to  be  a 
remarkably  well-informed  man,  and  with  agree 
able,  rather  insinuating  manners.  He  knew 
something  of  books  too,  and  he  made,  I  could  not 
tell  whether  consciously  or  unconsciously,  a  num 
ber  of  literary  allusions.  One  of  them  I  recall. 
It  was  a  Spanish  proverb,  he  said:  "The  judge  is 
a  big  man,  but  give  your  presents  to  the  clerk." 

"Well,  you'll  do  well  here  if  you  start  right. 
The  tortoise  beats  the  hare,  you  know — every 
time — ev-ery  time." 

I  started,  so  apt  was  the  allusion.  I  wondered 
if  he  could  ever  have  known  Peck. 

"Yes,  I  know  that.  That's  what  I  mean  to 
do,"  I  said. 

"Get  in  with  the  right  sort  of  folks,  then  when 
there's  any  sweeping  done  you'll  be  on  the  side 
of  the  handle."  He  was  moving  around  toward 

283 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  door  and  was  looking  out  of  the  window 
reflecting. 

"I  have  a  letter  to  a  gentleman  named  Leigh," 
I  said.  "I  have  not  yet  presented  it." 

"Ah!" 

I  turned  and  glanced  at  him  casually  and  was 
struck  with  the  singular  change  that  had  come 
over  his  face.  It  was  as  if  he  had  suddenly  drawn 
a  fine  mask  over  it.  His  eyes  were  calmly  fixed  on 
me,  yet  I  could  hardly  have  said  that  they  saw 
me.  His  countenance  was  absolutely  expression 
less.  I  have  seen  the  same  detached  look  in  a 
big  cat's  eyes  as  he  gazed  through  his  bars  and 
through  the  crowd  before  him  to  the  far  jungle, 
ocean  spaces  away.  It  gave  me  a  sudden  shiver 
and  I  may  have  shown  that  I  was  startled,  but, 
as  I  looked,  the  mask  disappeared  before  my  eyes 
and  he  was  smiling  as  before. 

"Got  a  pretty  daughter?"  he  said  with  a 
manner  which  offended  me,  I  could  hardly  tell 
why. 

"I  believe  so;  but  I  do  not  know  her."  I  was 
angry  with  myself  for  blushing,  and  it  was  plain 
that  he  saw  it  and  did  not  believe  me. 

"You  know  a  man  't  calls  himself  Count  Push 
kin?" 

"Yes,  I  know  him." 

284 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

"He  knows  her  and  she  knows  him." 
"Does  she?    I  know  nothing  about  that." 
"Kind  o'  makin'  a  set  for  him,  they  say?" 
"Is  she?    I  hardly  think  it  likely,  if  she  knows 
him,"  I  said  coldly.    I  wondered  with  what  ma 
lignant  intuition  he  had  read  my  thoughts. 

*'0h!    A  good  many  people  do  that.    They 
like  the  sound.    It  gives  'em  power." 
"Power!" 

"Yes.  Power's  a  pretty  good  thing  to  have. 
You  can — "  He  looked  out  of  the  window  and 
licked  his  lips  in  a  sort  of  reverie.  He  suddenly 
opened  and  closed  his  hand  with  a  gesture  of 
crushing.  "Power  and  money  go  together?" 
And  still  smiling,  with  a  farewell  nod,  he  noise 
lessly  withdrew  and  closed  the  door. 

When  he  was  gone  I  was  conscious  of  a  feeling 
of  intense  relief,  and  also  of  intense  antagonism 
— a  feeling  I  had  never  had  for  but  one  man  be 
fore — Peck :  a  feeling  which  I  never  got  rid  of. 

One  evening  a  little  later  I  missed  Dix.  He 
usually  came  home  even  when  he  strayed  off, 
which  was  not  often,  unless  as  happened  he  went 
with  Elsa,  for  whom  he  had  conceived  a  great 
fondness,  and  who  loved  and  petted  him  in  return. 
It  had  come  to  be  a  great  bond  between  the  girl 
and  me,  and  I  think  the  whole  family  liked  me  the 

285 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

better  for  the  dog's  love  of  the  daughter.  But 
this  evening  he  did  not  appear;  I  knew  he  was  not 
with  Elsa,  for  I  remembered  he  had  been  in  my 
office  during  the  afternoon,  and  in  consequence  I 
spent  an  unhappy  night.  All  sorts  of  visions 
floated  before  my  mind,  from  the  prize-ring  to  the 
vivisection  table.  I  rather  inclined  to  the  former; 
for  I  knew  his  powerful  chest  and  loins  and  his 
scarred  shoulders  would  commend  him  to  the 
fancy.  I  thought  I  remembered  that  he  had  gone 
out  of  my  office  just  before  I  left  and  had  gone 
down  the  steps  which  led  to  the  alley  I  have  men 
tioned.  This  he  sometimes  did.  I  recalled  that 
I  was  thinking  of  Miss  Eleanor  Leigh  and  had  not 
seen  or  thought  of  him  between  the  office  and  my 
home. 

I  was  so  disturbed  about  him  by  bedtime  that 
I  went  out  to  hunt  for  him  and  returned  to  my 
office  by  the  same  street  I  had  walked  through  in 
the  afternoon.  When  I  reached  the  building  in 
which  my  office  was,  I  turned  into  the  alley  I  have 
mentioned  and  went  up  the  back  stairway.  It 
was  now  after  midnight  and  it  was  as  black  as 
pitch.  When  I  reached  my  office,  thinking  that  I 
might  by  a  bare  possibility  have  locked  him  in, 
I  opened  the  door  and  walked  in,  closing  it  softly 
behind  me.  The  window  looked  out  on  the  well 

286 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

left  for  light  and  air,  and  was  open,  and  as  I 
opened  the  door  a  light  was  reflected  through  the 
window  on  my  wall.  I  stepped  up  to  close  the 
window  and,  accidentally  looking  across  the  narrow 
well  to  see  where  the  light  came  from,  discovered 
that  it  was  in  the  back  office  of  Coll  McSheen,  in 
which  were  seated  Mr.  McSheen  and  the  sour- 
looking  man  I  had  seen  on  the  train  with  the  silk 
hat  and  the  paste  diamond  studs,  and  of  all  per 
sons  in  the  world,  Peck !  The  name  Leigh  caught 
my  ear  and  I  involuntarily  stopped  without  being 
aware  that  I  was  listening.  As  I  looked  the  door 
opened  and  a  man  I  recognized  as  the  janitor  of 
the  building  entered  and  with  him  a  negro  waiter, 
bearing  two  bottles  of  champagne  and  three  glasses. 
For  a  moment  I  felt  as  though  I  had  been  dream 
ing.  For  the  negro  was  Jeams.  I  saw  the  recog 
nition  between  him  and  Peck,  and  Jeams's  white 
teeth  shone  as  Peck  talked  about  him.  I  heard 
him  say: 

"No,  suh,  I  don'  know  nuthin'  't  all  about  him. 
I'se  got  to  look  out  for  myself.  Yes,  suh,  got  a 
good  place  an'  I'm  gwine  to  keep  it!" 

He  had  opened  the  bottles  and  poured  out  the 
wine,  and  McSheen  gave  him  a  note  big  enough  to 
make  him  bow  very  low  and  thank  him  volubly. 
When  he  had  withdrawn  Peck  said: 

287 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"You've  got  to  look  out  for  that  rascal.  He's 
an  awfully  smart  scoundrel." 

"Oh!  I'll  own  him,  body  and  soul,"  said 
McSheen. 

"I  wouldn't  have  him  around  me." 

' '  Don't  worry — he  won't  fool  me.  If  he  does — " 
He  opened  and  closed  his  fist  with  the  gesture  I 
had  seen  him  use  the  first  day  he  paid  me  a  visit. 

"Well,  let's  to  business,"  he  said  when  they  had 
drained  their  glasses.  He  looked  at  the  other  men. 
"What  do  you  say,  Wringman?" 

"You  pay  me  the  money  and  I'll  bring  the 
strike  all  right,"  said  the  Labor-leader,  "and  I'll 
deliver  the  vote,  too.  In  ten  days  there  won't  be 
a  wheel  turning  on  his  road.  I'll  order  every  man 
out  that  wears  a  West  Line  cap  or  handles  a  West 
Line  tool." 

The  "West  Line"!  This  was  what  the  street 
car  line  was  called  which  ran  out  into  the  poor  sec 
tion  of  the  city  where  I  lived,  which  Mr.  Leigh 
controlled. 

"That's  all  right.  I'll  keep  my  part.  D n 

him!  I  want  to  break  him.  I'll  show  him  who 
runs  this  town.  With  his  d d  airs." 

"That's  it,"  said  Peck,  leaning  forward.  "It's 
your  road  or  his.  That's  the  way  I  figure  it." 
He  rubbed  his  hands  with  satisfaction.  "I  am 

288 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

with  you,  my  friends.  You  can  count  on  the 
Poole  interest  backing  you." 

"You'll  keep  the  police  off?"  said  the  Labor- 
leader. 

"Will  I?  Watch  'em!"  McSheen  poured  out 
another  glass,  and  offered  the  bottle  to  Peck,  who 
declined  it. 

"Then  it's  all  right.  Well,  you'd  better  make 
a  cash  payment  down  at  the  start,"  said  the 
Labor-leader. 

McSheen  swore.  "Do  you  think  I  have  a  bank 
in  my  office,  or  am  a  faro  dealer,  that  I  can  put  up 
a  pile  like  that  at  midnight?  Besides,  I've  always 
heard  there's  two  bad  paymasters — the  one  that 
don't  pay  at  all  and  the  one  't  pays  in  advance. 
You  deliver  the  goods." 

"Oh!  Come  off,"  said  the  other.  "If  you 
ain't  a  faro  dealer,  you  own  a  bank — and  you've 
a  barkeeper.  Mick's  got  it  down-stairs,  if  you 
ain't.  So  put  up,  or  you'll  want  money  sure 
enough.  I  know  what  that  strike's  worth  to  you." 

McSheen  rose  and  at  that  moment  I  became 
aware  of  the  impropriety  of  what  I  was  doing,  for 
I  had  been  absolutely  absorbed  watching  Peck, 
and  I  moved  back,  as  I  did  so  knocking  over  a 
chair.  At  the  sound  the  light  was  instantly  ex 
tinguished  and  I  left  my  office  and  hurried  down 

289 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  stairs,  wondering  when  the  blow  was  to  fall. 

The  afternoon  following  my  surprise  of  the 
conference  in  McSheen's  back  room,  there  was  a 
knock  at  my  door  and  Peck  walked  into  my  office. 
I  was  surprised  to  see  what  a  man-of-fashion  air 
he  had  donned.  He  appeared  really  glad  to  see 
me  and  was  so  cordial  that  I  almost  forgot  my 
first  feeling  of  shame  that  he  should  find  me  in 
such  manifestly  straitened  circumstances,  espe 
cially  as  he  began  to  talk  vaguely  of  a  large  case  he 
had  come  out  to  look  after,  and  I  thought  he  was 
on  the  verge  of  asking  me  to  represent  his  client. 

"You  know  we  own  considerable  interests  out 
here  both  in  the  surface  lines  and  in  the  P.  D.  & 
B.  D.,"  he  said  airily. 

"No,  I  did  not  know  you  did.  I  remember  that 
Mr.  Poole  once  talked  to  me  about  some  outstand 
ing  interests  in  the  P.  D.  &  B.  D.,  and  I  made  some 
little  investigation  at  the  time;  I  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  his  interest  had  lapsed;  but  he 
never  employed  me." 

"Yes,  that's  a  part  of  the  interests  I  speak  of. 
Mr.  Poole  is  a  very  careful  man." 

"Very.  Well,  you  see  I  have  learned  my 
lesson.  I  have  learned  economy,  at  least,"  I 
laughed  in  reply  to  his  question  of  how  I  was 
getting  along  in  my  new  home.  He  took  as  he 

290 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

asked  it  an  appraising  glance  at  the  poor  little 
office. 

"A  very  important  lesson  to  learn,"  he  said 
sententiously.  "I  am  glad  I  learned  it  early." 
He  was  so  smug  that  I  could  not  help  saying: 

"You  were  always  economical?" 

"Yes,  I  hope  so.  I  always  mean  to  be.  You 
get  much  work?" 

"No,  not  much — yet;  still,  you  know,  I  always 
had  a  knack  of  getting  business,"  I  said.  "My 
trouble  was  that  I  used  to  disdain  small  things 
and  I  let  others  attend  to  them.  I  know  better 
than  that  now.  I  don't  think  I  have  any  right 
to  complain." 

"Oh — I  suppose  you  have  to  put  in  night  work, 
too,  then?"  he  added,  after  a  pause. 

This  then  was  the  meaning  of  his  call.  He 
wished  to  know  whether  I  had  seen  him  in  Coll 
McSheen's  office  the  night  before.  He  had  de 
livered  himself  into  my  hands.  So,  I  answered 
lightly. 

"Oh!  yes,  sometimes." 

I  had  led  him  up  to  the  point  and  I  knew  now 
he  was  afraid  to  take  a  step  further.  He  sheered 
off. 

"Well,  tell  me  something,"  he  said,  "if  you 
don't  mind.  Do  you  know  Mr.  Leigh?" 

291 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"What  Mr.  Leigh?" 

"Mr.  Walter  Leigh,  the  banker." 

"I  don't  mind  telling  you  at  all  that  I  do  not." 

"Oh!" 

I  thought  he  was  going  to  offer  me  a  case;  but 
Peck  was  economical .  He  already  had  one  lawyer. 

"I  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him  from  Mr. 
Poole,"  I  said.  "But  you  can  say  to  Mr.  Poole 
that  I  never  presented  it." 

"Oh!    Ah!    Well— I'll  tell  him." 

"Do." 

"Do  you  know  Mr.  McSheen?" 

I  nodded  "Yes." 

"Do  you  know  him  well?" 

"Does  any  one  know  him  well?"  I  parried. 

"He  has  an  office  in  this  building?" 

I  could  not,  for  the  life  of  me,  tell  whether  this 
was  an  affirmation  or  a  question.  So  I  merely 
nodded,  which  answered  in  either  case.  But  I 
was  pining  to  say  to  him,  "Peck,  why  don't  you 
come  out  with  it  and  ask  me  plainly  what  I  know 
of  your  conference  the  other  night?"  However, 
I  did  not.  I  had  learned  to  play  a  close  game. 

"Oh!  I  saw  your  nigger,  Jeams — ah — the 
other  day." 

"Did  you?  Where  is  he?"  I  wanted  to  find 
him,  and  asked  innocently  enough. 

292 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

"Back  at  home." 

"How  is  he  getting  on?" 

"Pretty  well,  I  believe.    He's  a  big  rascal." 

"Yes,  but  a  pleasant  one,  and  an  open  one." 

Peck  suddenly  rose.  "Well,  I  must  be  going. 
I  have  an  engagement  which  I  must  keep."  At 
the  door  he  paused.  "By  the  way,  Mrs.  Peck 
begged  to  be  remembered  to  you." 

He  had  a  way  of  blinking,  like  a  terrapin — 
slowly.  He  did  so  now. 

He  did  not  mean  his  tone  to  be  insolent — only  to 
be  insolent  himself — but  it  was. 

"I'm  very  much  obliged  to  her.  Remember 
me  to  her." 

That  afternoon  I  strolled  out,  hoping  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  Miss  Leigh.  I  did  so,  but  Peck  was 
riding  in  a  carriage  with  her  and  her  father.  So 
he  won  the  last  trick,  after  all.  But  the  rubber 
was  not  over.  I  was  glad  that  they  did  not  see 
me,  and  I  returned  to  my  office  filled  with  rage  and 
determined  to  unmask  Peck  the  first  chance  I 
should  have,  not  because  he  was  a  trickster  and  a 
liar,  but  because  he  was  applying  his  trickiness 
in  the  direction  of  Miss  Leigh. 

That  night  the  weather  changed  and  it  turned 
off  cold.  I  remember  it  from  a  small  circum 
stance.  The  wind  appeared  to  me  to  have  shifted 

293 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

when  Miss  Leigh's  carriage  drove  out  of  sight  with 
Peck  in  it.  I  went  home  and  had  bad  dreams. 
What  was  Peck  doing  with  the  Leighs?  Could  I 
have  been  mistaken  in  thinking  he  and  McSheen 
had  been  talking  of  Mr.  Leigh  in  their  conference? 
For  some  time  there  had  been  trouble  on  the 
street-car  lines  of  the  city  and  a  number  of  small 
strikes  had  taken  place  on  a  system  of  lines  run 
ning  across  the  city  and  to  some  extent  in  com 
petition  with  the  West  Line,  which  Mr.  Leigh  had 
an  interest  in.  According  to  the  press  the  West 
Line,  which  ran  out  into  a  new  section,  was  grow 
ing  steadily  while  the  other  line  was  falling  back. 
Could  it  be  that  McSheen  was  endeavoring  to 
secure  possession  of  the  West  Line?  This,  too, 
had  been  intimated,  and  Canter,  one  of  the  richest 
men  of  the  town,  was  said  to  be  behind  him. 
What  should  I  do  under  the  circumstances? 
Would  Peck  tell  Miss  Leigh  any  lies  about  me? 
All  these  suggestions  pestered  me  and,  with  the 
loss  of  Dix,  kept  me  awake,  so  that  next  morning 
I  was  in  rather  a  bad  humor. 

In  my  walk  through  the  poorer  quarter  on  my 
way  to  my  office  I  used  to  see  a  great  deal  of  the 
children,  and  it  struck  me  that  one  of  the  saddest 
effects  of  poverty — the  dire  poverty  of  the  slum — 
was  the  debasement  of  the  children.  Cruelty  ap- 

294 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

pears  to  be  the  natural  instinct  of  the  young  as 
they  begin  to  gain  in  strength.  But  among  the 
well-to-do  and  the  well-brought-up  of  all  classes 
it  is  kept  in  abeyance  and  is  trained  out.  But  in 
the  class  I  speak  of  at  a  certain  age  it  appears  to 
flower  out  into  absolute  brutality.  It  was  the 
chief  drawback  to  my  sojourn  in  this  quarter,  for 
I  am  very  fond  of  children,  and  the  effect  of  pov 
erty  on  the  children  was  the  saddest  part  of  my 
surroundings.  To  avoid  the  ruder  element,  I  used 
to  walk  of  a  morning  through  the  little  back  street 
where  I  had  discovered  that  morning  the  little 
school  for  very  small  children,  and  I  made  the  ac 
quaintance  of  a  number  of  the  children  who  attend 
ed  the  school.  One  little  girl  in  particular  interested 
me.  She  was  the  poorest  clad  of  any,  but  her 
cheeks  were  like  apples  and  her  chubby  wrists 
were  the  worst  chapped  of  all;  and  with  her 
sometimes  was  a  little  crippled  girl,  who  walked 
with  a  crutch,  whom  she  generally  led  by  the 
hand  in  the  most  motherly  way,  so  small  that 
it  was  a  wonder  how  she  could  walk,  much  more 
study. 

My  little  girls  and  I  got  to  that  point  of  intimacy 
where  they  would  talk  to  me,  and  Dix  had  made 
friends  with  them  and  used  to  walk  beside  them 
as  we  went  along. 

295 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

The  older  girl's  first  name  was  Janet,  but  she 
spoke  with  a  lisp,  and  I  could  not  make  out  her 
name  with  a  certainty.  Her  father  had  been  out 
of  work,  she  said,  but  now  was  a  driver,  and  her 
teacher  was  "Mith  Thellen."  The  little  cripple's 
name  was  "Sissy" — Sissy  Talman.  This  was  all 
the  information  I  could  get  out  of  her.  "Mith 
Thellen"  was  evidently  her  goddess. 

On  the  cool,  crisp  morning  after  the  turn  in  the 
weather,  I  started  out  rather  earlier  than  usual 
intending  to  hunt  for  Dix  and  also  to  look  up 
Jeams.  I  bought  a  copy  of  the  Trumpet  and  was 
astonished  to  read  an  account  of  trouble  among  the 
employees  of  the  West  Lane,  for  I  had  not  seen  the 
least  sign  of  it.  The  piece  went  on  further  to  in 
timate  that  Mr.  Leigh  had  been  much  embarrassed 
by  his  extension  of  his  line  out  into  a  thinly  popu 
lated  district  and  that  a  strike,  which  was  quite 
sure  to  come,  might  prove  very  disastrous  to  him. 
I  somehow  felt  very  angry  at  the  reference  to 
Mr.  Leigh  and  was  furious  with  myself  for  hav 
ing  written  for  the  Trumpet.  I  walked  around 
through  the  street  where  the  school  was,  though 
without  any  definite  idea  whatever,  as  it  was  too 
early  for  the  children.  As  I  passed  by  the  school 
the  door  was  wide  open,  and  I  stopped  and  looked 
in.  The  fire  was  not  yet  made.  The  stove  was 

296 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

open ;  the  door  of  the  cellar,  opening  outside,  was 
also  open,  and  at  the  moment  a  young  woman — 
the  teacher  or  some  one  else — was  backing  up  the 
steps  out  of  the  cellar  lugging  a  heavy  coal-scuttle. 
One  hand,  and  a  very  small  one,  was  supporting 
her  against  the  side  of  the  wall,  helping  her  push 
herself  up.  I  stepped  forward  with  a  vague  pity 
for  any  woman  having  to  lift  such  a  weight. 

" Won't  you  let  me  help  you?"  I  asked. 

"Thank  you,  I  believe  I  can  manage  it."  And 
she  pulled  the  scuttle  to  the  top,  where  she  planted 
it,  and  turned  with  quite  an  air  of  triumph.  It 
was  she !  my  young  lady  of  the  sunny  house :  Miss 
Leigh !  I  had  not  recognized  her  at  all.  Her  face 
was  all  aglow  and  her  eyes  were  filled  with  light 
at  a  difficulty  overcome.  I  do  not  know  what  my 
face  showed;  but  unless  it  expressed  conflicting 
emotions,  it  belied  my  feelings.  I  was  equally 
astonished,  delighted,  and  embarrassed.  I  hast 
ened  to  say  something  which  might  put  her  at  her 
ease  and  at  the  same  time  prove  a  plea  for  myself, 
and  open  the  way  to  further  conversation. 

"I  was  on  my  way  to  my  law-office,  and  seeing  a 
lady  struggling  with  so  heavy  a  burden,  I  had  hoped 
I  might  have  the  privilege  of  assisting  her  as  I 
should  want  any  other  gentleman  to  do  to  my  sis 
ter  in  a  similar  case."  I  meant  if  I  had  had  a  sister. 

297 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

She  thanked  me  calmly;  in  fact,  very  calmly. 

"I  do  it  every  morning;  but  this  morning,  as  it 
is  the  first  cold  weather,  I  piled  it  a  little  too  high ; 
that  is  all."  She  looked  toward  the  door  and 
made  a  movement. 

I  wanted  to  say  I  would  gladly  come  and  lift 
it  for  her  every  morning;  that  I  could  carry  all 
her  burdens  for  her.  But  I  was  almost  afraid 
even  to  ask  permission  again  to  carry  it  that 
morning.  As,  however,  she  had  given  me  a  peg, 
I  seized  it. 

"Well,  at  least,  let  me  carry  it  this  morning,"  I 
said,  and  without  waiting  for  an  answer  or  even 
venturing  to  look  at  her,  I  caught  up  the  bucket 
and  swung  it  into  the  house,  when  seeing  the 
sticks  all  laid  in  the  stove,  and  wishing  to  do  her 
further  service,  without  asking  her  anything 
more,  I  poured  half  the  scuttleful  into  the  stove. 

"I  used  to  be  able  to  make  a  fire,  when  I  lived 
in  my  old  home,"  I  said  tentatively;  then  as  I  saw 
a  smile  coming  into  her  face,  I  added:  "But  I'm 
afraid  to  try  an  exhibition  of  my  skill  after  such 
boasting,"  and  without  waiting  further,  I  backed 
out,  bringing  with  me  only  a  confused  apparition 
of  an  angel  lifting  a  coal-scuttle. 

I  do  not  remember  how  I  reached  my  office 
that  day,  whether  I  walked  the  stone  pavements 

298 


RE-ENTER  PECK 

through  the  prosaic  streets  or  trod  on  rosy  clouds. 
There  were  no  prosaic  streets  for  me  that  day.  I 
wondered  if  the  article  I  had  seen  in  the  paper  had 
any  foundation.  Could  Mr.  Leigh  have  lost  his 
fortune?  Was  this  the  reason  she  taught  school? 
I  had  observed  how  simply  she  was  dressed,  and  I 
thrilled  to  think  that  I  might  be  able  to  rescue  her 
from  this  drudgery. 

The  beggars  who  crossed  my  path  that  morning 
were  fortunate.  I  gave  them  all  my  change,  even 
relieving  the  necessities  of  several  thirsty  im 
postors  who  beset  my  way,  declaring  with  un 
blushing,  sodden  faces  that  they  had  not  had  a 
mouthful  for  days. 

I  walked  past  the  little  school-house  that  night 
and  lingered  at  the  closed  gate,  finding  a  charm 
in  the  spot.  The  little  plain  house  had  suddenly 
become  a  shrine.  It  seemed  as  if  she  might  be 
hovering  near. 

The  next  morning  I  passed  through  the  same 
street,  and  peeped  in  at  the  open  door.  There  she 
was,  bending  over  the  open  stove  in  which  she  had 
already  lighted  her  fire,  little  knowing  of  the 
flame  she  had  kindled  in  my  heart.  How  I 
cursed  myself  for  being  too  late  to  meet  her. 
And  yet,  perhaps,  I  should  have  been  afraid  to 
speak  to  her;  for  as  she  turned  toward  the  door, 

299 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

I  started  on  with  pumping  heart  in  quite  a  fright 
lest  she  should  detect  me  looking  in. 

I  walked  by  her  old  home  Sunday  afternoon. 
Flowers  bloomed  at  the  windows.  As  I  was 
turning  away,  Count  Pushkin  came  out  of  the 
door  and  down  the  steps.  As  he  turned  away 
from  the  step  his  habitual  simper  changed  into 
a  scowl;  and  a  furious  joy  came  into  my  heart. 
Something  had  gone  wrong  with  him  within  there. 
I  wished  I  had  been  near  enough  to  have  crossed 
his  path  to  smile  in  his  face;  but  I  was  too  dis 
tant,  and  he  passed  on  with  clenched  fist  and 
black  brow. 

After  this  my  regular  walk  was  through  the 
street  of  the  baby-school,  and  when  I  was  so 
fortunate  as  to  meet  Miss  Leigh  she  bowed  and 
smiled  to  me,  though  only  as  a  passing  acquaint 
ance,  whilst  I  on  my  part  began  to  plan  how  I 
should  secure  an  introduction  to  her.  Her  smile 
was  sunshine  enough  for  a  day,  but  I  wanted  the 
right  to  bask  in  it  and  I  meant  to  devise  a  plan. 
After  what  I  had  told  Peck,  I  could  not  present 
my  letter;  I  must  find  some  other  means.  It 
came  in  an  unexpected  way,  and  through  the 
last  person  I  should  have  imagined  as  my  sponsor. 


300 


XX 

MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

"DUT  to  revert  to  the  morning  when  I  made 
Miss  Leigh's  fire  for  her.  I  hunted  for  Dix 
all  day,  but  without  success,  and  was  so  busy 
about  it  that  I  did  not  have  time  to  begin  my 
search  for  Jeams.  That  evening,  as  it  was  rain 
ing  hard,  I  treated  myself  to  the  unwonted  lux 
ury  of  a  ride  home  on  a  street-car.  The  streets 
were  greasy  with  a  thick,  black  paste  of  mud,  and 
the  smoke  was  down  on  our  heads  in  a  dark  slop. 
Like  Petrarch,  my  thoughts  were  on  Laura,  and  I 
was  repining  at  the  rain  mainly  because  it  pre 
vented  the  possibility  of  a  glimpse  of  Miss  Leigh  on 
the  street:  a  chance  I  was  ever  on  the  watch  for. 
I  boarded  an  open  car  just  after  it  started  and 
just  before  it  ran  through  a  short  subway.  The 
next  moment  a  man  who  had  run  after  the  car 
sprang  on  the  step  beside  me,  and,  losing  his  foot 
ing,  he  would  probably  have  fallen  and  might 
have  been  crushed  between  the  car  and  the  edge 
of  the  tunnel,  which  we  at  that  moment  were 
entering,  had  I  not  had  the  good  fortune,  being  on 

301 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  outer  seat,  to  catch  him  and  hold  him  up. 
Even  as  it  was,  his  coat  was  torn  and  my  elbow 
was  badly  bruised  against  the  pillar  at  the  en 
trance.  I,  however,  pulled  him  over  across  my 
knees  and  held  him  until  we  had  gone  through  the 
subway,  when  I  made  room  for  him  on  the  seat 
beside  me. 

"That  was  a  close  call,  my  friend,"  I  said. 
"Don't  try  that  sort  of  thing  too  often." 

"It  was,  indeed — the  closest  I  ever  had,  and  I 
have  had  some  pretty  close  ones  before.  If  you 
had  not  caught  me,  I  would  have  been  in  the 
morgue  to-morrow  morning." 

This  I  rather  repudiated,  but  as  the  sequel 
showed,  the  idea  appeared  to  have  become  fixed 
in  his  mind.  We  had  some  little  talk  together  and 
I  discovered  that,  like  myself,  he  had  come  out 
West  to  better  his  fortune,  and  as  he  was  dressed 
very  plainly,  I  assumed  that,  like  myself,  he  had 
fallen  on  rather  hard  times,  and  I  expressed 
sympathy.  "Where  have  I  seen  you  before?"  I 
asked  him. 

"On  the  train  once  coming  from  the  East." 

"Oh!  yes."  I  remembered  now.  He  was  the 
man  who  knew  things. 

"You  know  Mr.  McSheen?"  he  asked  irrele 
vantly. 

302 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

"Yes — slightly.  I  have  an  office  in  the  same 
building." 

I  wondered  how  he  knew  that  I  knew  him. 

"Yes.  Well,  you  want  to  look  out  for  him. 
Don't  let  him  fool  you.  He's  deep.  What's 
that  running  down  your  sleeve?  Why,  it's 
blood!  Where  did  it  come  from?"  He  looked 
much  concerned. 

"From  my  arm,  I  reckon.  I  hurt  it  a  little 
back  there,  but  it  is  nothing." 

He  refused  to  be  satisfied  with  my  explanation 
and  insisted  strongly  on  my  getting  off  and  going 
with  him  to  see  a  doctor.  I  laughed  at  the  idea. 

"Why,  I  haven't  any  money  to  pay  a  doctor," 
I  said. 

"It  won't  cost  you  a  cent.  He  is  a  friend  of 
mine  and  as  good  a  surgeon  as  any  in  the  city. 
He's  straight — knows  his  business.  You  come 
along." 

So,  finding  that  my  sleeve  was  quite  soaked 
with  blood,  I  yielded  and  went  with  him  to  the 
office  of  his  friend,  a  young  doctor  named  Traumer, 
who  lived  in  a  part  of  the  town  bordering  on  the 
working  people's  section,  which,  fortunately,  was 
not  far  from  where  we  got  off  the  car.  Also, 
fortunately,  we  found  him  at  home.  He  was  a 
slim  young  fellow  with  a  quiet,  self-assured  man- 

303 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

nor  and  a  clean-cut  face,  lighted  by  a  pair  of 
frank,  blue  eyes. 

"Doc,"  said  my  conductor,  "here's  a  friend  of 
mine  who  wants  a  little  patching  up." 

"That's  the  way  with  most  friends  of  yours, 
Bill,"  said  the  doctor,  who  had  given  me  a  single 
keen  look.  "What's  the  matter  with  him?  Shot? 
Or  have  the  pickets  been  after  him?  " 

"No,  he's  got  his  arm  smashed  saving  a  man's 
life." 

"What!  Well,  let's  have  a  look  at  it.  He 
doesn't  look  very  bad."  He  helped  me  off  with 
my  coat  and,  as  he  glanced  at  the  sleeve,  gave  a 
little  exclamation. 

"Hello!" 

"Whose  life  did  he  save?"  he  asked,  as  he 
was  binding  up  the  arm.  "That's  partly  a 
mash." 

"Mine." 

"Oh!  I  see."  He  went  to  work  and  soon  had 
me  bandaged  up.  "Well,  he's  all  right  now. 
What  were  you  doing?"  he  asked  as  he  put  on  the 
last  touches. 

"Jumping  on  a  car." 

"Ah!"  The  doctor  was  manifestly  amused. 
"You  observe  that  our  friend  is  laconic?"  he  said 
tome. 

304 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

"What's  that?"  asked  the  other.  "Don't 
prejudice  him  against  me.  He  don't  know  any 
thing  against  me  yet — and  that's  more  than  some 
folks  can  say." 

"Who  was  on  that  car  that  you  were  following? " 
asked  the  doctor,  with  a  side  glance  at  my  friend. 
The  latter  did  not  change  his  expression  a  particle. 

"Doc,  did  you  ever  hear  what  the  parrot  said 
to  herself  after  she  had  sicked  the  dog  on,  and  the 
dog  not  seeing  anything  but  her,  jumped  on  her?" 

"No— what?" 

"'Polly,  you  talk  too  d d  much." 

The  doctor  chuckled  and  changed  the  subject. 
"What's  your  labor-friend,  Wringman,  doing 
now?  What  did  he  come  back  here  for?" 

"Same  old  thing — dodging  work." 

"He  seems  to  me  to  work  other  people  pretty 
well." 

The  other  nodded  acquiescingly. 

"He's  on  a  new  line  now.  McSheen's  got  him. 
Yes,  he  has,"  as  the  doctor  looked  incredulous. 

"What's  he  after?    Who's  he  working  for?" 

"Same  person — Coll  McSheen.  Pretty  busy, 
too.  Mr.  Glave  there  knows  him  already." 

' '  Glave ! — Glave ! ' '  repeated  the  doctor .  "  Where 
did  I  hear  your  name?  Oh,  yes!  Do  you  know 
a  preacher  named  John  Marvel?" 

305 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"John  Marvel!  Why,  yes.  I  went  to  college 
with  him.  I  knew  him  well." 

"You  knew  a  good  man  then." 

"He  is  that,"  said  the  other  promptly.  "If 
there  were  more  like  him  I'd  be  out  of  a  job." 

"You  know  Miss  Leigh,  too?" 

"What  Miss  Leigh?"  My  heart  warmed  at  the 
name  and  I  forgot  all  about  Marvel.  How  did  he 
know  that  I  knew  her? 

"'The  Angel  of  the  Lost  Children.'" 

"'The  Angel— '?  Miss  Eleanor  Leigh?"  Then 
as  he  nodded — "Slightly."  My  heart  was  now 
quite  warm.  "Who  called  her  so?" 

"She  said  she  knew  you.  I  looked  after  some 
of  her  friends  for  her." 

"Who  called  her  the  'Angel  of  the  Lost  Chil 
dren'?" 

"A  friend  of  mine — Leo  Wolff ert,  who  works  in 
the  slums — a  writer.  She's  always  finding  and 
helping  some  one  who  is  lost,  body  or  soul." 

"Leo  Wolffert !    Do  you  know  him? " 

"I  guess  we  all  know  him,  don't  we,  Doc?"  put 
in  the  other  man.  "And  so  do  some  of  the  big 
ones." 

"Rather." 

"And  the  lady,  too — she's  a  good  one,  too,"  he 
added. 

306 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

I  was  so  much  interested  in  this  part  of  the  con 
versation  that  I  forgot  at  the  moment  to  ask  the 
doctor  where  he  had  known  John  Marvel  and 
Wolffert. 

I,  however,  asked  him  what  I  owed  him,  and  he 
replied : 

"Not  a  cent.  Any  of  Langton's  friends  here  or 
John  Marvel's  friends,  or  (after  a  pause)  Miss 
Leigh's  friends  may  command  me.  I  am  only  too 
glad  to  be  able  to  serve  them.  It's  the  only  way 
I  can  help." 

"That's  what  I  told  him,"  said  my  friend, 
whose  name  I  heard  for  the  first  time.  "I  told 
him  you  weren't  one  of  these  Jew  doctors  that 
appraise  a  man  as  soon  as  he  puts  his  nose  in  the 
door  and  skin  him  clean." 

"I  am  a  Jew,  but  I  hope  I  am  not  one  of  that 
kind." 

"No;  but  there  are  plenty  of  'em." 

I  came  away  feeling  that  I  had  made  two  friends 
well  worth  making.  They  were  real  men. 

When  I  parted  from  my  friend  he  took  out  of 
his  pocket-book  a  card.  "For  my  friends,"  he 
said,  as  he  handed  it  to  me.  When  I  got  to  the 
light  I  read: 

"Wm.  Langton,  Private  Detective." 

It  was  not  until  long  afterward  that  I  knew  that 
307 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  man  he  was  following  when  he  sprang  on  the 
car  and  I  saved  him  was  myself,  and  that  I  owed 
the  attention  to  my  kinsman  and  to  Mr.  Leigh, 
to  whom  Peck  had  given  a  rather  sad  account  of 
me.  My  kinsman  had  asked  him  to  ascertain 
how  I  lived. 

I  called  on  my  new  friend,  Langton,  earlier 
than  he  had  expected.  In  my  distress  about  Dix 
I  consulted  him  the  very  next  day  and  he  under 
took  to  get  him  back.  I  told  him  I  had  not  a 
cent  to  pay  him  with  at  present,  but  some  day  I 
should  have  it  and  then— 

"You'll  never  owe  me  a  cent  as  long  as  you 
live,"  he  said.  "Besides,  I'd  like  to  find  that  dog. 
I  remember  him.  He's  a  good  one.  You  say 
you  used  the  back  stairway  at  times,  opening  on 
the  alley  near  Mick  Raffity's?" 

"Yes." 

He  looked  away  out  of  the  window  with  a 
placid  expression. 

"I  wouldn't  go  down  that  way  too  often  at 
night,"  he  said  presently. 

"Why?" 

"Oh!  I  don't  know.  You  might  stumble  and 
break  your  neck.  One  or  two  men  have  done  it." 

"Oh!  I'll  be  careful,"  I  laughed.  "I'm  pretty 
sure-footed." 

308 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

"You  need  to  be — there.  You  say  your  dog's 
a  good  fighter?" 

"He's  a  paladin.  Can  whip  any  dog  I  ever 
saw.  I  never  fought  him,  but  I  had  a  negro  boy 
who  used  to  take  him  off  till  I  stopped  him." 

"Well,  I'll  find  him— that  is,  I'll  find  where  he 
went." 

I  thanked  him  and  strolled  over  across  town  to 
try  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  "Angel  of  the  Lost 
Children."  I  saw  her  in  a  carriage  with  another 
young  girl,  and  as  I  gazed  at  her  she  suddenly 
turned  her  eyes  and  looked  straight  at  me, 
quite  as  if  she  had  expected  to  see  me,  and  the 
smile  she  gave  me,  though  only  that  which  a 
pleasant  thought  wings,  lighted  my  heart  for  a 
week. 

A  day  or  two  later  my  detective  friend  dropped 
into  my  office. 

"Well,  I  have  found  him."  His  face  showed 
that  placid  expression  which,  with  him,  meant 
deep  satisfaction.  "The  police  have  him — are 
holding  him  in  a  case,  but  you  can  identify  and 
get  him.  He  was  in  the  hands  of  a  negro  dog- 
stealer  and  they  got  him  in  a  raid.  They  pulled 
one  of  the  toughest  joints  in  town  when  there  was 
a  fight  going  on  and  pinched  a  full  load.  The 
nigger  was  among  them.  He  put  up  a  pretty 

309 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

stiff  fight  and  they  had  to  hammer  him  good 
before  they  quieted  him.  He'll  go  down  for 
ninety  days  sure.  He  was  a  fighter,  they  said — 
butted  men  right  and  left." 

"I'm  glad  they  hammered  him — you're  sure 
it'sDix?" 

"Sure;  he  claimed  the  dog;  said  he'd  raised 
him.  But  it  didn't  go.  I  knew  he'd  stolen  him 
because  he  said  he  knew  you." 

"Knew  me — a  negro?  What  did  he  say  his 
name  was?" 

"They  told  me — let  me  see — Professor  Jeams 
— something." 

"Not  Woodson?" 

"Yes,  that's  it." 

"Well,  for  once  in  his  life  he  told  the  truth.  He 
sold  me  the  dog.  You  say  he's  in  jail?  I  must  go 
and  get  him  out." 

"You'll  find  it  hard  work.  Fighting  the  police 
is  a  serious  crime  in  this  city.  A  man  had  better 
steal,  rob,  or  kill  anybody  else  than  fight  an 
officer." 

"Who  has  most  pull  down  there?" 

"Well,  Coll  McSheen  has  considerable.  He 
runs  the  police.  He  may  be  next  mayor." 

I  determined,  of  course,  to  go  at  once  and  see 
what  I  could  do  to  get  Jeams  out  of  his  trouble.  I 

310 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

found  him  in  the  common  ward  among  the  tough 
est  criminals  in  the  jail — a  massive  and  forbidding- 
looking  structure — to  get  into  which  appeared  for 
a  time  almost  as  difficult  as  to  get  out.  But  on 
expressing  my  wish  to  be  accorded  an  interview 
with  him,  I  was  referred  from  one  official  to 
another,  until,  with  my  back  to  the  wall,  I  came 
to  a  heavy,  bloated,  ill-looking  creature  who  went 
by  the  name  of  Sergeant  Byle.  I  preferred  my 
request  to  him.  I  might  as  well  have  undertaken 
to  argue  with  the  stone  images  which  were  rudely 
carved  as  caryatides  beside  the  entrance.  He 
simply  puffed  his  big  black  cigar  in  silence,  shook 
his  head,  and  looked  away  from  me;  and  my 
urging  had  no  other  effect  than  to  bring  a  snicker 
of  amusement  from  a  couple  of  dog-faced  shysters 
who  had  entered  and,  with  a  nod  to  him,  had  sunk 
into  greasy  chairs. 

"Who  do  you  know  here?" 

A  name  suddenly  occurred  to  me,  and  I  used  it. 

"Among  others,  I  know  Mr.  McSheen,"  and  as 
I  saw  his  countenance  fall,  I  added,  "and  he  is 
enough  for  the  present."  I  looked  him  sternly 
in  the  eye. 

He  got  up  out  of  his  seat  and  actually  walked 
across  the  room,  opened  a  cupboard  and  took  out 
a  key,  then  rang  a  bell. 

311 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Why  didn't  you  say  you  were  a  friend  of  his?" 
he  asked  surlily.  "A  friend  of  Mr.  McSheen  can 
see  any  one  he  wants  here." 

I  have  discovered  that  civility  will  answer  with 
nine-tenths  or  even  nineteen-twentieths  of  the 
world,  but  there  is  a  class  of  intractable  brutes 
who  yield  only  to  force  and  who  are  influenced 
only  by  fear,  and  of  them  was  this  sodden  ruffian. 
He  led  the  way  now  subserviently  enough,  growl 
ing  from  time  to  time  some  explanation,  which  I 
took  to  be  his  method  of  apologizing.  When, 
after  going  through  a  number  of  corridors,  which 
were  fairly  clean  and  well  ventilated,  we  came  at 
length  to  the  ward  where  my  unfortunate  client 
was  confined,  the  atmosphere  was  wholly  different : 
hot  and  fetid  and  intolerable.  The  air  struck  me 
like  a  blast  from  some  infernal  region,  and  behind 
the  grating  which  shut  off  the  miscreants  within 
from  even  the  modified  freedom  of  the  outer 
court  was  a  mass  of  humanity  of  all  ages,  foul 
enough  in  appearance  to  have  come  from  hell. 

At  the  call  of  the  turnkey,  there  was  some  in 
terest  manifested  in  their  evil  faces  and  some  of 
them  shouted  back,  repeating  the  name  of  Jim 
Woodson;  some  half  derisively,  others  with  more 
kindliness.  At  length,  out  of  the  mob  emerged 
poor  Jeams,  but,  like  Lucifer,  oh,  how  changed! 

312 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

His  head  was  bandaged  with  an  old  cloth,  soiled 
and  stained;  his  mien  was  dejected,  and  his  face 
was  swollen  and  bruised.  At  sight  of  me,  how 
ever,  he  suddenly  gave  a  cry,  and  springing  for 
ward  tried  to  thrust  his  hands  through  the  bars 
of  the  grating  to  grasp  mine.  "Lord,  God!"  he 
exclaimed.  "If  it  ain't  de  captain.  Glory  be  to 
God!  Marse  Hen,  I  knowed  you'd  come,  if  you 
jes'  heard  'bout  me.  Git  me  out  of  dis,  fur  de 
Lord's  sake.  Dis  is  de  wuss  place  I  ever  has  been 
in  in  my  life.  Dey  done  beat  me  up  and  put 
handcuffs  on  me,  and  chain  me,  and  fling  me  in  de 
patrol-wagon,  and  lock  me  up  and  sweat  me,  and 
put  me  through  the  third  degree,  till  I  thought  if  de 
Lord  didn't  take  mercy  'pon  me,  I  would  be  gone 
for  sho'.  Can't  you  git  me  out  o'  dis  right  away?  " 

I  explained  the  impossibility  of  doing  this  im 
mediately,  but  assured  him  that  he  would  soon  be 
gotten  out  and  that  I  would  look  after  his  case 
and  see  that  he  got  justice. 

"Yes,  sir,  that  is  what  I  want — jestice — I  don't 
ax  nothin'  but  jestice." 

"How  did  you  get  here?"  I  demanded.  And 
even  in  his  misery,  I  could  not  help  being  amused 
to  see  his  countenance  fall. 

"Dey  fetched  me  here  in  de  patrol-wagon,"  he 
said  evasively. 

313 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"I  know  that.    I  mean,  for  what?" 

"Well,  dey  say,  Captain,  dat  I  wus  desorderly 
an'  drunk,  but  you  know  I  don'  drink  nothin'." 

"I  know  you  do,  you  fool,"  I  said,  with  some 
exasperation.  "I  have  no  doubt  you  were  what 
they  say,  but  what  I  mean  is,  where  is  Dix  and 
how  did  you  get  hold  of  him?" 

"Well,  you  see,  Marse  Hen,  it's  dis  way," 
said  Jeams  falteringly.  "I  come  here  huntin'  fur 
you  and  I  couldn'  fin'  you  anywheres,  so  then  I 
got  a  place,  and  while  I  wus  lookin'  roun'  fur  you 
one  day,  I  come  'pon  Dix,  an'  as  he  wus  lost,  jes' 
like  you  wus,  an'  he  didn't  know  where  you  wus, 
an'  you  didn't  know  where  he  wus,  I  tuk  him 
along  to  tek  care  of  him  till  I  could  fin'  you." 

"And  incidentally  to  fight  him?"  I  said. 

Again  Jeams's  countenance  fell.  "No,  sir,  that 
I  didn't,"  he  declared  stoutly.  "Does  you  think 
I'd  fight  dat  dog  after  what  you  toP  me?" 

"Yes,  I  do.  I  know  you  did,  so  stop  lying 
about  it  and  tell  me  where  he  is,  or  I  will  leave  you 
in  here  to  rot  till  they  send  you  down  to  the  rock- 
pile  or  the  penitentiary." 

"Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir,  I  will.  Fur  God's  sake,  don' 
do  dat,  Marse  Hen.  Jes'  git  me  out  o'  here  an'  I 
will  tell  you  everything;  but  I'll  swear  I  didn't 
fight  him;  he  jes'  got  into  a  fight  so,  and  then  jist 

314 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

as  he  bed  licked  de  stuffin  out  of  dat  Barkeep 

Gallagin's  dog,  them  d d  policemen  come  in 

an'  hammered  me  over  the  head  because  I  didn't 
want  them  to  rake  in  de  skads  and  tek  Dix  'way 
from  me." 

I  could  not  help  laughing  at  his  contradictions. 

"Well,  where  is  he  now?" 

"I'll  swear,  Marse  Hen,  I  don'  know.  You  ax 
the  police.  I  jes'  know  he  ain't  in  here,  but  dey 
knows  where  he  is.  I  prays  night  and  day  no 
harm  won't  happen  to  him,  because  dat  dog  can 
beat  ary  dog  in  this  sinful  town.  I  jes'  wish  you 
had  seen  him." 

As  the  turnkey  was  now  showing  signs  of  im 
patience,  I  cut  Jeams  short,  thereby  saving  him 
the  sin  of  more  lies,  and  with  a  promise  that  I 
would  get  him  bailed  out  if  I  could,  I  came  away. 

The  turnkey  had  assured  me  on  the  way  that  he 
would  find  and  return  me  my  dog,  and  was  so 
sincere  in  his  declaration  that  nothing  would  give 
him  more  pleasure  than  to  do  this  for  any  friend 
of  Mr.  McSheen's,  that  I  made  the  concession  of 
allowing  him  to  use  his  efforts  in  this  direction. 
But  I  heard  nothing  more  of  him. 

With  the  aid  of  my  friend,  the  detective,  I  soon 
learned  the  names  of  the  police  officers  who  had 
arrested  Jeams,  and  was  enabled  to  get  from  them 

315 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

the  particulars  of  the  trouble  which  caused  his 
arrest. 

It  seemed  that,  by  one  of  the  strange  and  for 
tuitous  circumstances  which  so  often  occur  in  life, 
Jeams  had  come  across  Dix  just  outside  of  the 
building  in  which  was  my  law  office,  and  being 
then  in  his  glory,  he  had  taken  the  dog  into  the 
bar-room  of  Mick  Raffity,  where  he  had  on  arrival 
in  town  secured  a  place,  to  see  what  chance  there 
might  be  of  making  a  match  with  Dix.  The 
match  was  duly  arranged  and  came  off  the  follow 
ing  night  in  a  resort  not  far  from  Raffity's  saloon, 
and  Dix  won  the  fight.  Just  at  this  moment, 
however,  the  police  made  a  raid,  pulled  the  place 
and  arrested  as  many  of  the  crowd  as  could  not 
escape,  and  held  on  to  as  many  of  those  as  were 
without  requisite  influence  to  secure  their  prompt 
discharge.  In  the  course  of  the  operation,  Jeams 
got  soundly  hammered,  though  I  could  not  tell 
whether  it  was  for  being  drunk  or  for  engaging 
in  a  scrimmage  with  the  police.  Jeams  declared 
privately  that  it  was  to  prevent  his  taking  down 
the  money. 

When  the  trial  came  off,  I  had  prepared  myself 
fully,  but  I  feel  confident  that  nothing  would  have 
availed  to  secure  Jeams's  acquittal  except  for  two 
circumstances:  One  was  that  I  succeeded  in 

316 


MY  FIRST  CLIENT 

enlisting  the  interest  of  Mr.  McSheen,  who  for 
some  reason  of  his  own  showed  a  disposition  to  be 
particularly  civil  and  complacent  toward  me  at 
that  time — so  civil  indeed  that  I  quite  reproached 
myself  for  having  conceived  a  dislike  of  him. 
Through  his  intervention,  as  I  learned  later,  the 
most  damaging  witness  against  my  client  sud 
denly  became  exceedingly  friendly  to  him  and  on 
the  witness-stand  failed  to  remember  any  cir 
cumstance  of  importance  which  could  injure  him, 
and  finally  declared  his  inability  to  identify  him. 
The  result  was  that  Jeams  was  acquitted,  and 
when  he  was  so  informed,  he  arose  and  made  a 
speech  to  the  Court  and  the  Jury  which  would 
certainly  fix  him  in  their  memory  forever.  In 
the  course  of  it,  he  declared  that  I  was  the  greatest 
lawyer  that  had  ever  lived  in  the  world,  and  I  had 
to  stop  him  for  fear,  in  his  ebullient  enthusiasm, 
he  might  add  also  that  Dix  was  the  greatest  dog 
that  ever  lived. 


317 


XXI 

THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

OTILL,  I  had  not  got  Dix  back,  and  I  meant  to 
find  him  if  possible!  It  was  several  days 
before  I  could  get  on  the  trace  of  him,  and  when 
I  undertook  to  get  the  dog  I  found  an  unexpected 
difficulty  in  the  way.  I  was  sent  from  one  office 
to  another  until  my  patience  was  almost  ex 
hausted,  and  finally  when  I  thought  I  had,  at  last, 
run  him  down,  I  was  informed  that  the  dog  was 
dead.  The  gapped-tooth  official,  with  a  pewter 
badge  on  his  breast  as  his  only  insignia  of  official 
rank,  on  my  pressing  the  matter,  gave  me  a  cir 
cumstantial  account  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
dog  came  to  his  death.  He  had  attempted,  he 
said,  to  get  through  the  gate,  and  it  had  slammed 
to  on  him  accidentally,  and,  being  very  heavy, 
had  broken  his  neck. 

I  had  given  Dix  up  for  lost  and  was  in  a  very 
low  state  of  mind,  in  which  Jeams  sympathized 
with  me  deeply,  though  possibly  for  a  different 
reason.  He  declared  that  we  had  "lost  a  dog  as 

318 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

could  win  a  ten-dollar  bill  any  day  he  could  get 
a  man  to  put  it  up." 

"Cap'n,  you  jes'  ought  to  V  seen  the  way  he 
chawed  up  that  barkeep  Gallagin's  dog!  I  was 
jes'  gittin'  ready  to  rake  in  de  pile  when  dem  per- 
lice  jumped  in  an'  hammered  me.  We  done  los' 
dat  dog,  Cap'n — you  an'  I  got  to  go  to  work,"  he 
added  with  a  rueful  look. 

It  did  look  so,  indeed.  A  few  days  later,  a 
letter  from  him  announced  that  he  had  gotten  a 
place  and  would  call  on  me  "before  long."  As  he 
gave  no  address,  I  assumed  that  his  " place"  was 
in  some  bar-room,  and  I  was  much  disturbed 
about  him.  One  day,  not  long  after,  Dix  dashed 
into  my  office  and  nearly  ate  me  up  in  his  joy. 
I  really  did  not  know  until  he  came  back  how  dear 
he  was  to  me.  It  was  as  if  he  had  risen  from  the 
dead.  I  took  him  up  in  my  arms  and  hugged  him 
as  if  I  had  been  a  boy.  He  wore  a  fine  new  collar 
with  a  monogram  on  it  which  I  could  not  decipher. 
Next  day,  as  I  turned  into  the  alley  at  the  back 
of  the  building  on  which  opened  Mick  Raffity's 
saloon,  with  a  view  to  running  up  to  my  office  by 
the  back  way,  I  found  Dix  in  the  clutches  of  a 
man  who  was  holding  on  to  him,  notwithstanding 
his  effort  to  escape.  He  was  a  short,  stout  fellow 
with  a  surly  face.  At  my  appearance  Dix  re- 

319 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

peated  the  manoeuvres  by  which  he  had  escaped 
from  Jeams  the  day  I  left  him  behind  me  back 
East,  and  was  soon  at  my  side. 

I  strode  up  to  the  man. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  my  dog?"  I  de 
manded  angrily. 

"He'sMr.  McSheen'sdog." 

"He's  nothing  of  the  kind.  He's  my  dog  and  I 
brought  him  here  with  me." 

"I  guess  I  know  whose  dog  he  is,"  he  said  in 
solently.  "He  got  him  from  Dick  Gallagin." 

Gallagin!  That  was  the  name  of  the  man  who 
had  put  up  a  dog  to  fight  Dix.  A  light  began  to 
break  on  me. 

"I  guess  you  don't  know  anything  of  the  kind, 
unless  you  know  he's  mine.  He  never  heard 
of  Gallagin.  I  brought  him  here  when  I  came 
and  he  was  stolen  from  me  not  long  ago  and 
I've  just  got  him  back.  Shut  up,  Dix!"  for 
Dix  was  beginning  to  growl  and  was  ready  for 
war. 

The  fellow  mumbled  something  and  satisfied 
me  that  he  was  laboring  under  a  misapprehension, 
so  I  explained  a  little  further,  and  he  turned  and 
went  into  Rajfity's  saloon.  Next  day,  however, 
there  was  a  knock  at  my  door,  and  before  I  could 
call  to  the  person  to  come  in,  McSheen  himself 

320 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

stood  in  the  door.  The  knock  itself  was  loud  and 
insolent,  and  McSheen  was  glowering  and  mani 
festly  ready  for  trouble. 

"I  hear  you  have  a  dog  here  that  belongs  to  me," 
he  began. 

"Well,  you  have  heard  wrong — I  have  not." 

"Well — to  my  daughter.    It  is  the  same  thing." 

"No,  I  haven't — a  dog  that  belongs  to  your 
daughter?" 

"Yes,  a  dog  that  belongs  to  my  daughter. 
Where  is  he?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  I  wasn't  aware  that 
you  had  a  daughter,  and  I  have  no  dog  of  hers  or 
any  one  else — except  my  own." 

"Oh!  That  don't  go,  young  man — trot  him 
out." 

At  this  moment,  Dix  walked  out  from  under 
my  desk  where  he  had  been  lying,  and  standing 
beside  me,  gave  a  low,  deep  growl. 

"Why,  that's  the  dog  now." 

I  was  angry,  but  I  was  quiet,  and  I  got  up  and 
walked  over  toward  him. 

"Tell  me  what  you  are  talking  about,"  I  said. 

"I'm  talking  about  that  dog.  My  daughter 
owns  him  and  I've  come  for  him." 

"Well,  you  can't  get  this  dog,"  I  said,  "because 
he's  mine." 

321 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Oh!  he  is,  is  he?" 

"Yes,  I  brought  him  here  with  me  when  I 
came.  I've  had  him  since  he  was  a  puppy." 

"Oh!  you  did!" 

1 '  Yes,  I  did.  Go  back  there,  Dix,  and  lie  do wn ! " 
for  Dix,  with  the  hair  up  on  his  broad  back  and  a 
wicked  look  in  his  eye,  was  growling  his  low, 
ominous  bass  that  meant  war.  At  the  word, 
however,  he  went  back  to  his  corner  and  lay 
down,  his  eye  watchful  and  uneasy.  His  prompt 
obedience  seemed  to  stagger  Mr.  McSheen,  for 
he  condescended  to  make  his  first  attempt  at  an 
explanation. 

"Well,  a  man  brought  him  and  sold  him  to  my 
daughter  two  months  ago." 

"I  know — he  stole  him." 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  She  paid 
for  him  fair  and  square — $50.00,  and  she's  fond  of 
the  dog,  and  I  want  him." 

"I'm  sorry,  for  I  can't  part  with  him." 

"You'd  sell  him,  I  guess?" 

"No." 

"If  I  put  up  enough?" 

"No." 

"Say,  see  here."  He  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket. 
"I  helped  you  out  about  that  nigger  of  yours,  and 
I  want  the  dog.  I'll  give  you  $50.00  for  the  dog— 

322 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

more  than  he's  worth — and  that  makes  one  hun 
dred  he's  cost." 

"He's  not  for  sale — I  won't  sell  him." 

"Well,  I'll  make  it  a  hundred."  A  hundred 
dollars!  The  money  seemed  a  fortune  to  me;  but 
I  could  not  sell  Dix. 

"No.  I  tell  you  the  dog  is  not  for  sale.  I 
won't  sell  him." 

"What  is  your  price,  anyhow?"  demanded 
McSheen.  ' '  I  tell  you  I  want  the  dog.  I  promised 
my  daughter  to  get  the  dog  back." 

"Mr.  McSheen,  I  have  told  you  the  dog  is  not 
for  sale — I  will  not  sell  him  at  any  price." 

He  suddenly  flared  up. 

"Oh!  You  won't!  Well,  I'll  tell  you  that  I'll 
have  that  dog  and  you'll  sell  him  too." 

"I  will  not." 

"We'll  see.  You  think  you're  a  pretty  big  man, 
but  I'll  show  you  who's  bigger  in  this  town — you 
or  Coll  McSheen.  I  helped  you  once  and  you 
haven't  sense  enough  to  appreciate  it.  You  look 
out  for  me,  young  man."  He  turned  slowly  with 
his  scowling  eye  on  me. 

"I  will." 

"You'd  better.  When  I  lay  my  hand  on  you, 
you'll  think  an  earthquake's  hit  you." 

"Well,  get  out  of  my  office  now,"  I  said. 
323 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"Oh!    I'm  going  now,  but  wait." 

He  walked  out,  and  I  was  left  with  the  knowl 
edge  that  I  had  one  powerful  enemy. 

I  was  soon  to  know  Mr.  Collis  McSheen  better, 
as  he  was  also  to  know  me  better. 

A  few  days  after  this  I  was  walking  along  and 
about  to  enter  my  office  when  a  man  accosted  me 
at  the  entrance  and  asked  if  I  could  tell  him  of  a 
good  lawyer. 

I  told  him  I  was  one  myself,  though  I  had  the 
grace  to  add  that  there  were  many  more,  and  I 
named  several  of  the  leading  firms  in  the  city. 

"Well,  I  guess  you'll  do.  I  was  looking  for  you. 
You  are  the  one  she  sent  me  to,"  he  said  doubt 
fully,  when  I  had  told  him  my  name.  He  was  a 
weather-beaten  little  Scotchman,  very  poor  and 
hard  up ;  but  there  was  something  in  his  air  that 
dignified  him.  He  had  a  definite  aim,  and  a 
definite  wrong  to  be  righted.  The  story  he  told 
me  was  a  pitiful  one.  He  had  been  in  this  coun 
try  several  years  and  had  a  place  in  a  locomotive- 
shop  somewhere  East,  and  so  long  as  he  had  had 
work,  had  saved  money.  But  they  "had  been 
ordered  out,"  he  said,  and  after  waiting  around 
finding  that  the  strike  had  failed,  he  had  come  on 
here  and  had  -gotten  a  place  in  a  boiler-shop,  but 
they  "had  been  ordered  out"  again,  "just  as  I 

324 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

got  my  wife  and  children  on  and  was  getting  sort 
of  fixed  up,"  he  added.  Then  he  had  resigned 
from  the  Union  and  had  got  another  place,  but  a 
man  he  had  had  trouble  with  back  East  was  "one 
of  the  big  men  up  here  now,"  and  he  had  had  him 
turned  out  because  he  did  not  "belong  to  the 
Union."  He  was  willing  to  join  the  Union  now, 
but  "Wringman  had  had  him  turned  down." 
Then  he  had  gotten  a  place  as  a  driver.  But  he 
had  been  ill  and  had  lost  his  place,  and  since  then 
he  had  not  been  able  to  get  work,  "though  the 
preacher  had  tried  to  help  him."  He  did  not 
seem  to  complain  of  this  loss  of  his  place. 

"The  wagon  had  to  run,"  he  said,  but  he  and 
his  wife,  too,  had  been  ill,  and  the  baby  had  died 
and  the  expenses  of  the  burial  had  been  "some 
thing."  He  appeared  to  take  it  as  a  sort  of  ulti 
mate  decree  not  to  be  complained  of — only  stated. 
He  mentioned  it  simply  by  way  of  explanation, 
and  spoke  as  if  it  were  a  mere  matter  of  Fate. 
And,  indeed,  to  the  poor,  sickness  often  has  the 
finality  of  Fate.  During  their  illness  they  had 
sold  nearly  all  their  furniture  to  live  on  and  pay 
rent.  Now  he  was  in  arrears ;  his  wife  was  in  bed, 
his  children  sick,  and  his  landlord  had  levied  on 
his  furniture  that  remained  for  the  rent.  At  the 
last  gasp  he  had  come  to  see  a  lawyer. 

325 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"I  know  I  owe  the  rent,"  he  said,  "but  the  beds 
won't  pay  it  and  the  loan  company's  got  all  the 
rest." 

I  advised  him  that  the  property  levied  on  was 
not  subject  to  levy;  but  suggested  his  going  to  his 
landlord  and  laying  the  case  before  him. 

"If  he  has  any  bowels  of  compassion  what 
ever—  "  I  began,  but  he  interrupted  me. 

"That's  what  the  preacher  said."  But  his 
landlord  was  "the  Argand  Estate,"  he  added  in  a 
hopeless  tone.  He  only  knew  the  agent.  He  had 
been  to  him  and  so  had  the  preacher;  but  he  said 
he  could  do  nothing — the  rent  must  be  paid — 
"the  Argand  Estate  had  to  be  kept  up,  or  it 
couldn't  do  all  the  good  it  did  " — so  he  was  going 
to  turn  them  out  next  day. 

He  had  been  to  one  or  two  lawyers,  he  said;  but 
they  wouldn't  take  the  case  against  the  Argand 
Estate,  and  then  the  lady  had  sent  him  to  me. 

"What  lady?" 

"The  lady  who  teaches  the  little  school — Miss 
Leigh — she  teaches  my  Janet." 

McNeil's  name  had  at  first  made  no  impression 
on  me,  but  the  mention  of  Miss  Leigh,  "the  Argand 
Estate,"  and  of  Wringman  brought  up  an  associa 
tion.  "McNeil?— McNeil?"  I  said.  "Did  you 
have  five  children;  and  did  your  wife  bring  them 

326 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

on  here  some  months  ago — when  the  train  was 
late,  one  day?" 

"  Yes,  sorr;  that's  the  way  it  was." 
"Well,  I  will  keep  you  in  longer  than  to 
morrow,"  I  said.  And  I  did.  But  Justice  is  too 
expensive  a  luxury  for  the  poor.  "Law  is  law," 
but  it  was  made  by  landlords.  I  won  his  case  for 
him  and  got  his  furniture  released;  I  scored  the 
Argand  agent,  an  icy-faced  gentleman,  named 
Gillis,  "of  high  character,"  as  the  Argand  coun 
sel,  Mr.  McSheen,  indignantly  declared,  and  inci 
dentally  "the  Argand  Estate,"  in  terms  which 
made  me  more  reputation  than  I  knew  of  at  the 
time. 

The  case  was  a  reasonably  simple  one,  for  my 
client  was  entitled  to  a  poor  debtor's  exemption 
of  a  few  household  articles  of  primary  need,  and 
he  had  not  half  of  what  he  could  have  claimed 
under  his  exemption.  It  appeared,  however,  that 
in  the  lease,  which  was  in  the  regular  form  used 
by  the  Argand  Estate,  all  exemptions  were 
waived,  and  also  that  it  was  the  regular  practice 
of  the  estate  to  enforce  the  waiver,  and  it  was 
alleged  at  the  trial  that  this  practice  had  always 
been  sustained.  It  was  the  fact  that  this  was  the 
customary  lease  and  that  a  principle  was  involved 
which  brought  Mr.  McSheen  into  the  case,  as  he 

327 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

stated,  for  a  client  who  was  the  largest  landlord  in 
the  city.  And  it  was  the  fact  that  Miss  Leigh 
had  recommended  me  and  that  McSheen  was  in 
the  case  that  made  me  put  forth  all  my  powers 
on  it. 

On  the  stand  the  Argand  agent,  Gillis,  who,  it 
appeared,  had  begun  as  an  office-boy  in  the  office 
of  Mr.  Argand  and  had  then  become  his  private 
secretary,  from  which  he  had  risen  to  wealth  and 
position,  a  fact  I  had  learned  from  Kalender, 
was  foolish  enough  to  say  that  the  case  was  gotten 
up  by  an  unknown  young  lawyer  out  of  spite 
against  the  Argand  Estate  and  that  it  was  simply 
an  instance  of  "the  eternal  attacks  on  wealth"; 
that,  in  fact,  there  were  "only  two  sides,  the  man 
with  the  dress-coat  and  the  man  without." 

"You  began  poor.  When  did  you  change  your 
coat?"  I  asked. 

The  laugh  was  raised  on  him  and  he  got  angry. 
After  that  I  had  the  case.  I  was  unknown,  but 
Gillis  was  better  known  than  I  thought,  and  the 
hardship  on  my  client  was  too  plain.  I  led  him 
on  into  a  tangle  of  admissions,  tied  him  up,  and 
cross-examined  him  till  the  perspiration  ran  off 
his  icy  forehead.  I  got  the  jury  and  won  the  case. 
But,  notwithstanding  my  success,  my  client  was 
ruined.  He  was  put  out  of  the  house,  of  course, 

328 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

and  though  I  had  saved  for  him  his  beds,  every 
article  he  possessed  soon  went  for  food.  The  laws 
established  for  the  very  protection  of  the  poor 
destroy  their  credit  and  injure  them.  He  could 
not  give  security  for  rent,  and  but  for  a  fellow 
workman  named  Simms  taking  him  into  his 
house,  and  the  kindness  of  the  man  he  had  spoken 
of  as  "the  preacher,"  his  children  would  have  had 
to  go  to  the  workhouse  or  a  worse  place. 

McNeil's  case  was  the  beginning  of  my  practice, 
and  in  a  little  while  I  found  myself  counsel  for 
many  of  the  drivers  in  our  section  of  the  city. 

Among  those  whom  this  case  brought  me  in 
touch  with  was  a  young  lawyer,  who,  a  little  later, 
became  the  attorney  for  the  Government.  My 
interest  in  him  was  quickened  by  the  discovery 
that  he  was  related  to  Mr.  Leigh,  a  fact  he  men 
tioned  somewhat  irrelevantly.  He  was  present 
during  the  trial  and  on  its  conclusion  came  up  and 
congratulated  me  on  my  success  against  what  he 
termed  "the  most  powerful  combination  for  evil 
in  the  city.  They  bid  fair,"  he  said,  "to  control 
not  only  the  city,  but  the  State,  and  are  the  more 
dangerous  because  they  are  entrenched  behind  the 
support  of  ignorant  honesty.  But  you  must  look 
out  for  McSheen."  As  he  stood  near  Coll  McSheen, 
I  caught  the  latter's  eye  fixed  on  us  with  that 

329 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

curious  malevolent  expression  which  cast  a  sort 
of  mask  over  his  face. 

I  had  not  hunted  up  John  Marvel  after  learning 
of  his  presence  in  the  city,  partly  because  I 
thought  he  would  not  be  congenial  and  partly 
because,  having  left  several  affectionate  letters 
from  him  unanswered  during  my  prosperity,  I 
was  ashamed  to  seek  him  now  in  my  tribulation. 
But  Fate  decided  for  me.  We  think  of  our  ab 
sent  friend  and  lo!  a  letter  from  him  is  handed  to 
us  before  we  have  forgotten  the  circumstance. 
We  fancy  that  a  man  in  the  street  is  an  acquaint 
ance;  he  comes  nearer  and  we  discover  our  mis 
take,  only  to  meet  the  person  we  thought  of,  on 
the  next  corner.  We  cross  seas  and  run  into  our 
next-door  neighbor  in  a  crowded  thoroughfare. 
In  fact,  the  instances  of  coincidence  are  so  numer 
ous  and  so  strange  that  one  can  hardly  repel  the 
inference  that  there  is  some  sort  of  law  governing 
them. 

I  indulged  in  this  reflection  when,  a  morning  or 
two  later,  as  I  was  recalling  my  carelessness  in  not 
looking  up  John  Marvel  and  Wolffert,  there  was 
a  tap  on  the  door  and  a  spare,  well-built,  dark- 
bearded  man,  neatly  but  plainly  dressed,  walked 
in.  His  hat  shaded  his  face,  and  partly  concealed 

330 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

his  eyes;  but  as  he  smiled  and  spoke,  I  recog 
nized  him. 

"Wolffert!    I  was  just  thinking  of  you." 

He  looked  much  older  than  I  expected,  and 
than,  I  thought,  I  myself  looked;  his  face  was 
lined  and  his  hair  had  a  few  strands  of  silver  at 
the  temples;  his  eyes  were  deeper  than  ever,  and 
he  appeared  rather  worn.  But  he  had  developed 
surprisingly  since  we  had  parted  at  College.  His 
manner  was  full  of  energy.  In  fact,  as  he  talked 
he  almost  blazed  at  times.  And  I  was  conscious 
of  a  strange  kind  of  power  in  him  that  attracted 
and  carried  me  along  with  him,  even  to  the  dulling 
of  my  judgment.  He  had  been  away,  he  said,  and 
had  only  just  returned,  and  had  heard  of  my  suc 
cess  in  ''defeating  the  Argand  Estate  Combina 
tion";  and  he  had  come  to  congratulate  me.  It 
was  the  first  victory  any  one  had  ever  been  able 
to  win  against  them. 

"But  I  did  not  defeat  any  combination,"  I  said. 
"I  only  defeated  Collis  McSheen  in  his  effort  to 
take  my  client's  bed  and  turn  him  and  his  children 
out  in  the  street  without  a  blanket." 

"There  is  the  Combination,  all  the  same,"  he 
asserted.  "They  have  the  Law  and  the  Gospel 
both  in  the  combine.  They  make  and  administer 
the  one  and  then  preach  the  other  to  bind  on  men's 

331 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

shoulders  burdens,  grievous  to  be  borne,  that  they 
themselves  do  not  touch  with  so  much  as  a  finger." 

"But  I  don't  understand,"  I  persisted;  for  I  saw 
that  he  labored  under  much  suppressed  feeling, 
and  I  wondered  what  had  embittered  him.  ' '  Collis 
McSheen  I  know,  for  I  have  had  some  experience 
of  him;  and  Gillis,  the  agent,  was  a  cool  proposi 
tion;  but  the  Argand  Estate?  Why,  McSheen 
strung  out  a  list  of  charities  that  the  Argand 
Estate  supported  that  staggered  me.  I  only 
could  not  understand  why  they  support  a  man 
like  McSheen." 

"The  Argand  Estate  support  charities!  Yes, 
a  score  of  them — all  listed — and  every  dollar  is 
blood,  wrung  from  the  hearts  and  souls  of  others 
— and  there  are  many  Argands." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  For  he  was  showing  a 
sudden  passion  which  I  did  not  understand.  He 
swept  on  without  heeding  my  question. 

"Why,  their  houses  are  the  worst  in  the  city; 
their  tenements  the  poorest  for  the  rent  charged; 
their  manufactories  the  greatest  sweatshops; 
their  corporate  enterprises  all  at  the  cost  of  the 
working-class,  and,  to  crown  it  all,  they  sustain 
and  support  the  worst  villains  in  this  city,  who 
live  on  the  bodies  and  souls  of  the  ignorant  and 
the  wretched." 

332 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

"Whom  do  you  mean?    I  don't  understand." 

"Why,  do  you  suppose  the  Coll  McSheens  and 
Gillises  and  their  kind  could  subsist  unless  the 
Argands  and  Capons  of  the  Time  supported  them? 
They  have  grown  so  bold  now  that  they  threaten 
even  their  social  superiors — they  must  rule  alone ! 
They  destroy  all  who  do  not  surrender  at  dis 
cretion." 

"Who?  How?"  I  asked,  as  he  paused,  evi 
dently  following  a  train  of  reflection,  while  his 
eyes  glowed. 

"Why,  ah!  even  a  man  like — Mr.  Leigh,  who 
though  the  product  of  an  erroneous  system  is,  at 
least,  a  broad  man  and  a  just  one." 

"Is  he?  I  do  not  know  him.  Tell  me  about 
him."  For  I  was  suddenly  interested. 

Then  he  told  me  of  Mr.  Leigh  and  his  work 
in  trying  to  secure  better  service  for  the  pub 
lic,  better  tenements — better  conditions  gen* 
erally. 

"But  they  have  defeated  him,"  he  said  bitterly. 
"They  turned  him  out  of  his  directorship — or,  at 
least,  he  got  out — and  are  fighting  him  at  every 
turn.  They  will  destroy  him,  if  possible.  They 
almost  have  him  beat  now.  Well,  it  is  nothing  to 
me,"  he  added  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders  and 
a  sort  of  denial  of  the  self-made  suggestion.  "He 

333 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

is  but  an  individual  victim  of  a  rotten  system 
that  must  go." 

My  mind  had  drifted  to  the  conference  which  I 
had  witnessed  in  McSheen's  office  not  long  before, 
when  suddenly  Wolffert  said : 

"Your  old  friend,  Peck,  appears  to  have  gotten 
up.  I  judge  he  is  very  successful — after  his  kind." 

"Yes,  it  would  seem  so,"  I  said  dryly,  with  a 
sudden  fleeting  across  my  mind  of  a  scene  from  the 
past,  in  which  not  Peck  figured,  but  one  who  now 
bore  his  name ;  and  a  slightly  acrid  taste  came  in 
my  mouth  at  the  recollection.  ' '  Well,  up  or  down, 
he  is  the  same,"  I  added. 

"He  is  a  serpent,"  said  Wolffert.  "You  re 
member  how  he  tried  to  make  us  kill  each  other?" 

"Yes,  and  what  a  fool  I  made  of  myself." 

"No,  no.  He  was  at  the  bottom  of  it.  He 
used  to  come  and  tell  me  all  the  things  you  said 
and — didn't  say.  He  made  a  sore  spot  in  my  heart 
and  kept  it  raw.  He's  still  the  same — reptile." 

"Have  you  seen  him?"  I  asked.  He  leaned 
back  and  rested  his  eyes  on  me. 

"Yes,  he  took  the  trouble  to  hunt  me  up  a  day 
or  two  ago,  and  for  some  reason  went  over  the 
whole  thing  again.  What's  McSheen  to  him?" 

"I  shall  break  his  neck  some  day,  yet,"  I  ob 
served  quietly. 

334 


THE  RESURRECTION  OF  DIX 

"You  know  I  write,"  he  said  explanatorily. 
"He  wanted  me  to  write  something  about  you." 

"About  me?" 

"Yes." 

"What  a  deep-dyed  scoundrel  he  is!" 

"Yes,  he  wanted  to  enlist  me  on  the  McSheen 
side,  but—  ''  his  eyes  twinkled.  "Where  do  you 
go  to  church?"  he  suddenly  asked  me. 

I  told  him,  and  I  thought  he  smiled  possibly  at 
what  I  feared  was  a  little  flush  in  my  face. 

"To  'St.  Mammon's'!  Why  don't  you  go  to 
hear  John  Marvel?  He  is  the  real  thing." 

"John  Marvel?    Where  is  he?" 

"Not  far  from  where  you  say  you  live.  He 
preaches  out  there — to  the  poor." 

"In  a  chapel?"  I  enquired. 

"Everywhere  where  he  is,"  said  Wolffert, 
quietly. 

"What  sort  of  a  preacher  is  he?" 

"The  best  on  earth,  not  with  words,  but  with 
deeds.  His  life  is  his  best  sermon." 

I  told  him  frankly  why  I  had  not  gone,  though 
I  was  ashamed,  for  we  had  grown  confidential  in 
our  talk.  But  Wolff ert  assured  me  that  John 
Marvel  would  never  think  of  anything  but  the 
happiness  of  meeting  me  again. 

"He  is  a  friend  whom  God  gives  to  a  man  once 
335 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

in  his  lifetime,"  he  said,  as  he  took  his  leave. 
"Cherish  such  an  one.  His  love  surpasseth  the 
love  of  women." 

"Has  he  improved?"  I  asked. 

A  little  spark  flashed  in  Wolff ert's  eyes.  "He 
did  not  need  to  improve.  He  has  only  ripened. 
God  endowed  him  with  a  heart  big  enough  to  em 
brace  all  humanity — except—  "  he  added,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  "the  Jew." 

"I  do  not  believe  that." 

"By  the  way,  I  have  a  friend  who  tells  me  she 
has  met  you.  Your  dog  appears  to  have  made 
quite  an  impression  on  her." 

"Who  is  she?" 

"Miss  Leigh,  the  daughter  of  the  gentleman  we 
were  talking  about." 

"Oh!  yes — a  fine  girl — I  think,"!  said  with  a 
casual  air — to  conceal  my  real  interest. 

"I  should  say  so!  She  is  the  real  thing,"  he 
exclaimed.  "She  told  me  you  put  out  her  fire 
for  her.  She  teaches  the  waifs  and  strays." 

"Put  out  her  fire!  Was  ever  such  ingratitude! 
I  made  her  fire  for  her.  Tell  me  what  she  said." 

But  Wolffert  was  gone,  with  a  smile  on  his  face. 


336 


XXII 

THE   PREACHER 

,  "the  preacher"  whom  my  client,  McNeil, 
and  my  poor  neighbors  talked  of  was  no  other 
than  John  Marvel!  I  felt  that  he  must  have 
changed  a  good  deal  since  I  knew  him.  But 
decency,  as  well  as  curiosity,  required  that  I  go 
te  see  him.  Accordingly,  although  I  had  of  late 
gone  to  church  only  to  see  a  certain  worshipper, 
I  one  evening  sauntered  over  toward  the  little 
rusty-looking  chapel,  where  I  understood  he 
preached.  To  my  surprise,  the  chapel  was  quite 
full,  and  to  my  far  greater  surprise,  old  John 
proved  to  be  an  inspiring  preacher.  Like  Wolf- 
fert,  he  had  developed.  When  he  came  to  preach, 
though  his  sermon  was  mainly  hortatory  and 
what  I  should  have  expected  of  him,  his  earnest 
ness  and  directness  held  his  congregation,  and  I 
must  say  he  was  far  more  impressive  than  I  should 
have  imagined  he  could  be.  His  sermon  was  as 
far  from  the  cut-and-dried  discourse  I  was  used 
to  hear,  as  life  is  from  death. 

337 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

He  spoke  without  notes  and  directly  from  his 
heart.  His  text,  "Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor 
and  are  heavy-laden."  He  made  it  out  to  be  a 
positive  promise  of  rest  for  the  weary  in  body, 
mind  and  soul,  given  by  One  not  only  able  to  help 
but  longing  to  do  so:  a  pitying  Father,  who  saw 
His  tired  children  struggling  under  their  burdens 
and  yearned  toward  them.  The  great  Physician 
was  reaching  out  His  hands  to  them,  longing  to 
heal  them,  if  they  but  received  Him ;  if  they  but 
followed  Him.  To  be  converted  meant  to  turn 
from  what  they  knew  to  be  evil  and  try  to  live  as 
they  felt  He  lived.  He  had  come  to  bring  the 
gospel  to  the  poor.  He  had  been  poor — as  poor 
as  they.  He  knew  their  sorrows  and  privations 
and  weakness ;  and  their  sins,  however  black  they 
were.  All  He  asked  was  that  they  trust  Him, 
and  try  to  follow  Him,  forgetting  self  and  helping 
others.  Do  not  be  afraid  to  trust  Him,  or  de 
spair  if  He  does  not  make  Himself  known  to 
you.  He  is  with  you  even  until  the  end — and 
often  as  much  when  you  do  not  feel  it  as  when 
you  do. 

God  appeared  very  real  to  him,  and  also  to  his 
hearers,  who  hung  on  his  words  as  simple  as  they 
were.  I  felt  a  seriousness  which  I  had  long  been 
a  stranger  to.  He  appeared  to  be  talking  to  me, 

338 


THE  PREACHER 

and  I  set  it  down  to  tenderness  for  old  John  Mar 
vel  himself,  rather  than  to  his  subject. 

When  the  service  was  over,  he  came  down  the 
aisle  speaking  to  the  congregation,  many  of  whom 
he  appeared  to  know  by  name,  and  whose  con 
cerns  he  also  knew  intimately.  And  as  the  chil 
dren  crowded  around  him  with  smiles  of  friendli 
ness,  I  thought  of  the  village  preacher  with  the 
children  following,  "with  endearing  wile." 

His  words  were  always  words  of  cheer. 

"Ah!  Mrs.  Tarns!  Your  boy  got  his  place, 
didn't  he? 

"Mrs.  Williams,  your  little  girl  is  all  right 
again? 

"Well,  Mrs.  McNeil"  (to  a  rusty,  thinly  clad 
woman  who  sat  with  her  back  to  me),  "so  your 
husband  won  his  case,  after  all?  His  lawyer  was 
an  old  friend  of  mine." 

I  had  sat  far  back,  as  the  church  was  full  when 
I  entered,  and  was  waiting  for  him  to  get  through 
with  his  congregation  before  making  myself 
known  to  him ;  so,  though  he  was  now  quite  close 
to  me,  he  did  not  recognize  me  until  I  spoke  to 
him.  As  I  mentioned  his  name,  he  turned. 

"Why,  Henry  Glave!"  Then  he  took  me  in 
his  arms,  bodily,  and  lifting  me  from  the  ground 
hugged  me  there  before  the  entire  remnant  of  his 

339 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

congregation  who  yet  remained  in  the  church. 
I  never  had  a  warmer  greeting.  I  felt  as  if  I 
were  the  prodigal  son,  and,  although  it  was  em 
barrassing,  I  was  conscious  that  instant  that  he 
had  lifted  me  out  of  my  old  life  and  taken  me 
to  his  heart.  It  was  as  if  he  had  set  me  down 
on  a  higher  level  hi  a  better  and  purer  atmos 
phere. 

I  went  home  with  him  that  night  to  his  little 
room  in  a  house  even  smaller  and  poorer  than 
that  in  which  I  had  my  room — where  he  lived,  as 
I  found,  because  he  knew  the  pittance  he  paid  was 
a  boon  to  the  poor  family  who  sublet  the  room. 
But  as  small  and  inconvenient  as  the  room  was, 
I  felt  that  it  was  a  haven  for  a  tired  and  storm- 
tossed  spirit,  and  the  few  books  it  contained  gave 
it  an  air  of  being  a  home.  Before  I  left  it  I  was 
conscious  that  I  was  in  a  new  phase  of  life.  Some 
thing  made  me  feel  that  John  Marvel's  room  was 
not  only  a  home  but  a  sanctuary. 

We  sat  late  that  night  and  talked  of  many 
things,  and  though  old  John  had  not  improved  in 
quickness,  I  was  surprised,  when  I  came  to  think 
over  our  evening,  how  much  he  knew  of  people — 
poor  people.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  lived 
nearer  to  them  than  possibly  any  one  I  had  known. 
He  had  organized  a  sort  of  settlement  among 

340 


THE  PREACHER 

them,  and  his  chief  helpers  were  Wolffert  and  a 
Catholic  priest,  a  dear  devoted  old  fellow,  Father 
Tapp,  whom  I  afterward  met,  who  always  spoke 
of  John  Marvel  as  his  "Heretick  brother,"  and 
never  without  a  smile  in  his  eye.  Here  he  helped 
the  poor,  the  sick  and  the  outcast;  got  places  for 
those  out  of  work,  and  encouraged  those  who  were 
despairing.  I  discovered  that  he  was  really  try 
ing  to  put  into  practical  execution  the  lessons  he 
taught  out  of  the  Bible,  and  though  I  told  him  he 
would  soon  come  to  grief  doing  that,  he  said  he 
thought  the  command  was  too  plain  to  be  dis 
obeyed.  Did  I  suppose  that  the  Master  would 
have  commanded,  "Love  your  enemies,"  and, 
"Turn  the  other  cheek,"  if  He  had  not  meant  it? 
"Well,"  I  said,  "the  Church  goes  for  teaching  that 
theoretically,  I  admit;  but  it  does  not  do  it  in 
practice — I  know  of  no  body  of  men  more  ready 
to  assert  their  rights,  and  which  strikes  back  with 
more  vehemence  when  assailed." 

"Ah!  but  that  is  the  weakness  of  poor,  fallible, 
weak  man,"  he  sighed.  "'We  know  the  good, 
but  oft  the  ill  pursue/  if  we  could  but  live  up  to 
our  ideals,  then,  indeed,  we  might  have  Christ's 
kingdom  to  come.  Suppose  we  could  get  all  to 
obey  the  injunction,  'Sell  all  thou  hast  and  give 
to  the  poor,'  what  a  world  we  should  have!" 

341 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

"It  would  be  filled  with  paupers  and  dead  beats," 
I  declared,  scouting  the  idea.  "  Enterprise  would 
cease,  a  dead  stagnation  would  result,  and  the 
industrious  and  thrifty  would  be  the  prey  of  the 
worthless  and  the  idle." 

"Not  if  all  men  could  attain  the  ideal." 

"No,  but  there  is  just  the  rub;  they  cannot— 
you  leave  out  human  nature.  Selfishness  is  in 
grained  in  man — it  has  been  the  mainspring 
which  has  driven  the  race  to  advance." 

He  shook  his  head.  "The  grace  of  God  is 
sufficient  for  all,"  he  said.  "The  mother-love  has 
some  part  in  the  advance  made,  and  that  is  not 
selfish.  Thank  God!  There  are  many  rich  noble 
men  and  women,  who  are  not  selfish  and  who  do 
God's  service  on  earth  out  of  sheer  loving  kindness, 
spend  their  money  and  themselves  in  His  work." 

"No  doubt,  but  here  in  this  city? 

"Yes,  in  this  city — thousands  of  them.  Why, 
where  do  we  get  the  money  from  to  run  our  place 
with?" 

"From  the  Argand  Estate?"  I  hazarded. 

"Yes,  even  from  the  Argand  Estate  we  get  some. 
But  men  like  Mr.  Leigh  are  those  who  support  us 
and  women  like — ah—  But  beyond  all  those 
who  give  money  are  those  who  give  themselves. 
They  bring  the  spiritual  blessing  of  their  presence, 

342 


THE  PREACHER 

and  teach  the  true  lesson  of  divine  sympathy. 
One  such  person  is  worth  many  who  only  give 
money." 

"Who,  for  instance?" 

"Why — ah — Miss  Leigh — for  example." 

I  could  scarcely  believe  my  senses.  Miss  Leigh! 
"Do  you  know  Miss  Leigh?  What  Miss  Leigh  are 
you  speaking  of?"  I  hurriedly  asked  to  cover  my 
own  confusion,  for  John  had  grown  red  and  I 
knew  instinctively  that  it  was  she — there  could  be 
but  one. 

"Miss  Eleanor  Leigh — yes,  I  know  her — she — 
ah — teaches  in  my  Sunday-school."  John's  old 
trick  of  stammering  had  come  back. 

Teaching  in  his  Sunday-school!  And  I  not 
know  her!  That  instant  John  secured  a  new 
teacher.  But  he  went  on  quickly,  not  divining 
the  joy  in  my  heart,  or  the  pious  resolve  I  was 
forming.  "She  is  one  of  the  good  people  who 
holds  her  wealth  as  a  trust  for  the  Master's  poor 
— she  comes  over  every  Sunday  afternoon  all  the 
way  from  her  home  and  teaches  a  class." 

Next  Sunday  at  three  P.  M.  a  hypocrite  of  my 
name  sat  on  a  bench  in  John's  little  church,  pre 
tending  to  teach  nine  little  ruffians  whose  only 
concern  was  their  shoes  which  they  continually 
measured  with  each  other,  while  out  of  the  corner 

343 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

of  my  eye  I  watched  a  slender  figure  bending, 
with  what  I  thought  wonderful  grace,  over  a 
pew  full  of  little  girls  on  the  other  side  of  the 
church  intent  on  their  curls  or  bangs. 

The  lesson  brought  in  that  bald-headed  and 
somewhat  unfeeling  prophet,  who  called  forth 
from  the  wood  the  savage  and  voracious  she-bears 
to  devour  the  crowd  of  children  who  ran  after  him 
and  made  rude  observations  on  his  personal  ap 
pearance,  and  before  I  was  through,  my  sym 
pathies  had  largely  shifted  from  the  unfortunate 
youngsters  to  the  victim  of  their  annoyance. 
Still  I  made  up  my  mind  to  stick  if  John  would 
let  me,  and  the  slim  and  flower-like  teacher  of 
the  fidgety  class  across  the  aisle  continued  to 
attend. 

I  dismissed  my  class  rather  abruptly,  I  fear,  on 
observing  that  the  little  girls  had  suddenly  risen 
and  were  following  their  teacher  toward  the  door 
with  almost  as  much  eagerness  as  I  felt  to  escort 
her.  When  I  discovered  that  she  was  only  going 
to  unite  them  with  another  class,  it  was  too  late 
to  recall  my  pupils,  who  at  the  first  opportunity 
had  made  for  the  door,  almost  as  swiftly  as 
though  the  she-bears  were  after  them. 

When  the  Sunday-school  broke  up,  the  young 
lady  waited  around,  and  I  took  pains  to  go  up 

344 


THE  PREACHER 

and  speak  to  her,  and  received  a  very  gracious 
smile  and  word  of  appreciation  at  my  efforts  with 
the  "  Botany  Bay  Class/'  as  my  boys  were  termed, 
which  quite  rewarded  me  for  my  work.  Her  eyes, 
with  their  pleasant  light,  lit  up  the  whole  place 
for  me.  Just  then  John  Marvel  came  out — and  it 
was  the  first  time  I  ever  regretted  his  appearance. 
The  smile  she  gave  him  and  the  cordiality  of  her 
manneiv  filled  me  with  sudden  and  unreasoning 
jealousy.  It  was  evident  that  she  had  waited  to 
see  him,  and  old  John's  face  bore  a  look  of  such 
happiness  that  he  almost  looked  handsome.  As 
for  her — as  I  came  out  I  felt  quite  dazed.  On  the 
street  whom  should  I  meet  but  Wolffert — "  simply 
passing  by,"  but  when  I  asked  him  to  take  a  walk, 
he  muttered  something  about  having  "to  see 
John."  He  was  well  dressed  and  looked  unusually 
handsome.  Yet  when  John  appeared,  still  talk 
ing  earnestly  with  Miss  Leigh,  I  instantly  saw  by 
his  face  and  the  direction  of  his  eye  that  the  John 
he  wanted  to  see  wore  an  adorable  hat  and  a 
quiet,  but  dainty  tailor-made  suit  and  had  a  face 
as  lovely  as  a  rose. 

I  was  in  such  a  humor  that  I  flung  off  down  the 
street,  swearing  that  every  man  I  knew  was  in 
love  with  her,  and  it  was  not  until  ten  o'clock 
that  night,  when  I  went  to  John's — whither  I  was 

345 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

drawn  by  an  irresistible  desire  to  talk  about  her 
and  find  out  how  matters  stood  between  them— 
and  he  told  me  that  she  had  asked  where  I  had 
gone,  that  I  got  over  my  temper. 

"Why,  what  made  you  run  off  so?"  he  in 
quired. 

"When?"    I  knew  perfectly  what  he  meant. 

"Immediately  after  we  let  out." 

"My  dear  fellow,  I  was  through,  and  besides  I 
thought  you  had  pleasanter  company."  I  said 
this  with  my  eyes  on  his  face  to  see  him  suddenly 
redden.  But  he  answered,  with  a  naturalness 
which  put  me  to  shame : 

"Yes,  Miss  Leigh  has  been  trying  to  get  a  place 
for  a  poor  man — your  client  by  the  way — and  then 
she  was  talking  to  me  about  a  little  entertainment 
for  the  children  and  their  parents,  too.  She  is 
always  trying  to  do  something  for  them.  And 
she  was  sorry  not  to  get  a  chance  to  speak  further 
to  you.  She  said  you  had  helped  her  about  her 
fire  and  she  had  never  thanked  you." 

It  is  surprising  how  quickly  the  sun  can  burst 
from  the  thickest  clouds  for  a  man  in  love.  I 
suddenly  wondered  that  Miss  Leigh  among  her 
good  works  did  not  continually  ask  about  me  and 
send  me  messages.  It  made  me  so  happy. 

"What  became  of  Wolffert?"  I  inquired. 
346 


THE  PREACHER 

"I  think  he  walked  home  with  her.  He  had 
something  to  talk  with  her  about.  They  are  great 
friends,  you  know.  She  helps  Wolffert  in  his 
work." 

"Bang!"  went  the  clouds  together  again  like  a 
clap  of  thunder.  The  idea  of  Wolffert  being  in 
love  with  her!  I  could  tolerate  the  thought  of 
John  Marvel  being  so,  but  Wolffert  was  such  a 
handsome  fellow,  so  clever  and  attractive,  and  so 
full  of  enthusiasm.  It  would  never  do.  Why, 
she  might  easily  enough  imagine  herself  in  love 
with  him.  I  suddenly  wondered  if  Wolffert  was 
not  the  cause  of  her  interest  in  settlement  work. 

"Wolffert  is  very  fond  of  her — I  found  him 
hanging  around  the  door  as  we  came  out,"  I 
hazarded. 

"Oh!  yes,  they  are  great  friends.  He  is  an  in 
spiration  to  her,  she  says — and  Wolffert  thinks  she 
is  an  angel — as  she  is.  Why,  if  you  knew  the 
things  she  does  and  makes  others  do!" 

If  John  Marvel  had  known  with  what  a  red-hot 
iron  he  was  searing  my  heart,  he  would  have  de 
sisted;  but  good,  blind  soul,  he  was  on  his  hobby 
and  he  went  on  at  full  speed,  telling  me  what 
good  deeds  she  had  performed — how  she  had 
fetched  him  to  the  city;  and  how  she  had  built 
up  his  church  for  him — had  started  and  run  his 

347 


JOHN  MARVEL,  ASSISTANT 

school  for  the  waifs — coming  over  from  her  beau 
tiful  home  in  all  weathers  to  make  up  the  fire  her 
self  and  have  the  place  warm  and  comfortable 
for  the  little  ones — how  she  looked  after  the  sick 
— organized  charities  for  them  and  spent  her 
money  in  their  behalf.  "They  call  her  the  angel 
of  the  lost  children,"  he  said,  "and  well  they  may." 

"Who  does?"  I  asked  suspiciously,  recalling 
the  title.  "Wolffert,  I  suppose." 

"Why,  all  my  people — I  think  Wolffert  first 
christened  her  so  and  they  have  taken  it  up." 

"Confound  Wolffert!"  I  thought.  "Wolffert's 
in  love  with  her,"  I  said. 

"Wolffert— in  love  with  her!  Why!"  I  saw 
that  I  had  suggested  the  idea  for  the  first  time — 
but  it  had  found  a  lodgment  in  his  mind.  "Oh! 
no,  he  is  not,"  he  declared,  but  rather  arguing  than 
asserting  it.  "They  are  only  great  friends— they 
work  together  and  have  many  things  in  common 
—Wolffert  will  never  marry — he  is  wedded  to  his 
ideal." 

"And  her  name  is  Eleanor  Leigh — only  he  is  not 
wedded  to  her  yet."  And  I  added  in  my  heart, 
"He  will  never  be  if  I  can  beat  him." 

"Yes — certainly,  in  a  way — as  she  is  mine," 
said  John,  still  thinking. 

"And  you  are  too!"  I  said. 
348 


THE  PREACHER 

"I?  In  love  with—?"  He  did  not  mention 
her  name.  It  may  have  been  that  he  felt  it  too 
sacred.  But  he  gave  a  sort  of  gasp.  "The  glow 
worm  may  worship  the  star,  but  it  is  at  a  long  dis 
tance,  and  it  knows  that  it  can  never  reach  it." 

I  hope  it  may  be  forgiven  to  lovers  not  to  have 
been  frank  with  their  rivals.  His  humility  touched 
me.  I  wanted  to  tell  John  that  I  thought  he 
might  stand  a  chance,  but  I  was  not  unselfish 
enough,  as  he  would  have  been  in  my  place.  All 
I  was  brave  enough  to  do  was  to  say,  "John,  you 
are  far  above  the  glow-worm;  you  give  far  more 
light  than  you  know,  and  the  star  knows  and 
appreciates  it." 


349 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
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book  "  DUE  on  the  Iast  date  stamPe(l  bel°w 


nn  L9-32m-8,'58(5876i4)444 


UCLA-Young  Research  Library 

PS2514  J61    1909 


L  009  577  195  2 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    001  251  095    4 


